Lost souls
by loredana
Summary: A new character has arrived into Nottingham ... is she what she will have you believe or is she hiding something? Can all people love? Do all people deserve love? This story will try to answer those questions, at least from my POV. Paring: GuyxOC
1. Chapter 1: Apparent truth

LOST SOULS

Chapter 1 – Apparent truth

"So … you know what you have to do. It won't be hard. You can handle the situation easily"

"Yes .. don't worry …"

Isabelle de Bracy looked at them …. The girl seemed nervous and annoyed … not at all the woman in control that she had met only three days ago …

"And what about her?…" the woman asked hesitantly.

"I'll see to it" … the answer was short and did not invite to more discussions on the subject …but Isabelle could see the look of pity that the woman gave her before directing her steps towards the cart …

That scared her. Her small eyes got even smaller and her pale skin became wax as she sat on the ground in her dark brown dress, hands and feet tight with rope. She did not know what they wanted to do with her and that scared her terribly. The only maid she had had with her had died on the journey and her coachman (a man she trusted more then anyone) had gone missing just a few hours earlier … inexplicably so … She looked at the cart … her cart … someone else had replaced her trusted man and the girl seemed on the point to get in and leave …. That would mean she would be left alone with the man … No! … not with him … she could feel that somehow she was protected by the girl's presence … but once she would be gone …. No! … she wanted to scream: Don't leave me! I trusted you! … but her mouth remained shut …and for the life of her she could not open it …

"You will take her to the nunnery as you promised, won't you?" … there was distrust in her voice but she hoped … just hoped …

"I will take good care of her" he said smiling, but his voice created a different sensation where smiling was not at all appropriate …

She felt her skin crawl … "But there is no need to …" , she tried to control herself since he had lifted Isabelle into the wagon filled with hay … she didn't want to alarm her more then it was necessary …

He gave her a cold look that seemed to burn through her skin … that put an end to her complaints instantly.

"Don't forget your bird", he said pointing to the cage on the ground and directed the wagon straight forward.

"Remember you don't have much time", he yelled back, turning to get a last look as she picked up the cage and got into the wagon.

The door was shut and the cart began its journey towards Sherwood Forest.

She did know what she had to do. She wondered how it will feel. She had forgotten. It had been years since she had done it … Until he had found her and became hungry again …

The hunger would be appeased for a while but it always came back and that was when he would come for her … "After this it will go away and he will be gone too. And when that happens I will run so far that he won't be able to find me again … and I'll be free", she thought.

It must have been two hours since they had started their journey and they were well through the first half of the forest when the cart, all of a sudden, stopped.

"Why has he stopped? He knows we were supposed to go straight to Nottingham. No stops along the way …". She looked out the window briefly and she understood. Near them was an other cart, filled with what seemed to be three quite rich and fat people. And in front of the two carts … a handful of peasants.

"Ah! So this must be the famous Robin Hood and his gang of outlaws". She had to admit to herself she was curious to find out who this extremely generous and handsome (she had heard) Robin Hood was. She could easily make out which one he was … standing there so straight, with a boyish grin on his face. "The boy has spirits … I'll give him that much".

She was surprised to see that there were also women with them …One was trying very hard to pretend she was a boy, but to a woman like her, whose entire existence depended on how well she read people, it was obvious. The other was clearly of noble blood, hence the proud and superior look in her eyes. She was quite pretty but still a girl …"So … this is Lady Marion" … She was even more interested in knowing her.

One of Robin's man started moving closer to the cart …She had to think quickly about how to approach this … Who would she be: **the arrogant, noble woman**? … she thought against it. She had neither the clothes nor the motivation for that role … **the smart, do-gooder that was happy to meet them** … that could work, she reasoned, and the "sheep" would like that very much indeed … but then again such behavior was sure to lead to gossip so better not … **the innocent, quiet girl caught in the wrong place at the wrong time**? … it was clearly the best choice and it was always an acceptable role to play in any situation you would find yourself in … it was the behavior that was expected from a woman …. No matter how boring she found it.

"Yes. Let's make it nice and simple this time. Start to finish."

"My lady .. your escort is here. Would you do me the honor of coming out of your cart?" said Little John in a mocking voice …

He was not a completely unappealing man …although there was that accent and ... she shutter when she remembered one of these peasants touching her and feeling the roughness of their hands ... it was horrible but she knew that if it came down to it she could do it again …

Little John had started to lose his patience … not that he had much to spare to begin with anyway … but more so when it came to these rich people …Finally, the cart door started opening. It became an affair in itself … slowly, painfully so, the door became wide open and a woman stepped down from the cart.

She joined her coachman and started walking towards where the people from the other cart had already been brought.

Robin Hood looked at her … simple black dress, no jewelry, no luxurious garments … she clearly was of noble blood and means judging from her cart but that didn't show in her clothes or behavior … head down, eyes in the ground, her hands tightly held together in front of her, her hair held in a simple and shabby knot … Yes, indeed everything about this woman was simple with the exception of her face … from the rare glimpses he had caught of her, she had striked him as a very beautiful woman … large brown eyes that seemed to look into your soul, dark hair that shined in the sunlight giving the appearance of red, full lips … he couldn't understand why such a woman would be wearing these kind of clothes that were more fitted for nuns …not women that would make your heart stop just by looking at you.

"All right … ladies and lords … for the time being I'm afraid we will become very well acquainted. But not to worry, we will behave ourselves. Right lads?" he yelled back at the rest of his men.

"Right, right", they answered amused.

"He's really enjoying himself" she thought looking at him. He seemed so happy and proud of himself. Like a little boy doing something very naughty. "You are such a child", she said to herself.

The woman next to her was sobbing, her companions were not far from that. This amused her terribly.

As Robin Hood approached them, the woman started crying louder and louder … He was shocked. He didn't believe he had this effect on people.

"Don't worry, my lady. I doubt our _hosts_", she put a mocking emphasis on the word, "are interested in your chastity. It more likely that rather stunning ruby you have around your neck that has caught their particular interest". All this was delivered in a shy, girlish voice. She shouldn't have said it at all but she couldn't help herself.

All of Robin Hood's men started laughing. This commentary caught Robin's attention, and after removing the necklace from the sobbing woman's neck, he approached the "pretended nun". "As I see you have no jewelry to contribute to our 'charity fund', I will start with a question: What is your name?"

She looked him straight in the face and answered back: "What is yours?"

"You can call me Robin Hood, my lady", he answered with a cunning smile taking a reverent bow.

"Then you can call me Daisy Sea", she replied with the smallest of smiles, "I've always loved the sea …and daisies". As she finished the sentence, she bowed her head down once more.

"This is, without a doubt, not a nun. Pretended or not". For some reason, he liked her .. "She had spirits … even if they're hidden under all that black". "So how about that bag of gold, I see you holding. That would make a splendid contribution".

"Like I have any choice. If I did, you can be sure I wouldn't give my money to a gang of miserable parasites like you", she thought. She hated giving money away. She smiled with a pretended shiness and handed him the bag. It physically hurt but still she did it.

All of a sudden there was movement… the outlaws became restless …"How easily you can be unbalanced", she thought satisfied … They soon realized there was no danger. It was just Much who had gone to see if there was any movement at the entrance of the forest … there was … a rather large number of soldiers were maneuvering …

"Well then", Robin turned to face his hostages, "I'm afraid you shall have to enjoy our company for a little while longer".

That was the final stroe for the sobbing woman. She collapsed to the ground. Her companions did the smallest of movements to help her and then they just gave up and sat down next to her.

"Well, Daisy Sea …perhaps you would like to join us", Robin said pointing to the place where the rest of the gang had settled after almost having to drag the "piglets" (as she had started calling them in her head). She came closer and her coachman took his coat off for her to have where to sit. "Archie is going all out on his strong, silent, protective type role", she thought amused. She sat dawn.

Robin was sitting quite close to her. This unsettled Marion somewhat, and she moved closer to them.

As she had expected, they started asking her what she was doing there. She knew she could neither tell the truth nor the truest lie, so she went for a simple scenario … She and her uncle, who was mute, were passing through Nottingham, making their way home.

"What about you?", she asked looking at Marion, "what situations of life have brought you to the forest and on the wrong side of the law?". All the others looked surprised that she would ask something like that, considering that she had never spoke to Marion before. "Excuse me", she said with pretended shines, "for being so direct. I did not expect to see a woman in these kind of circumstances"…

This irritated Marion, just as she had suspected.

"I don't see why these circumstances would better suit a man then a woman", she started boldly …"in life we all make choices … and I decided to live in the forest instead of marring a monster. Perhaps now the circumstances do not seem so unlikely to you", she concluded.

"The same proud look on your face", she thought. "Of course. I am sorry for upsetting you", she began with the sweetest, most innocent voices she could manage, "marriage is quite a frightening event."

"It wasn't marriage in itself that scared her", Robin jumped, "it was Gisborne."

"So there is something between you two. Just as I thought" … "I apologize. I am not familiar with that particular name …"

"Better pray you never do become familiar with it", Little John interrupted, "there is a monster, if there ever was one" and spitted as if to cast away the idea …

Much returned once again and announced that the soldiers had moved on. It was time for their guests to move on as well. They left them in possession of their carts and the clothes on their back, but not much more. They helped the two ladies inside and started to move into the forest.

As she looked back, she saw Robin reaching for Marion's hand and she avoiding it at any cost. "So you're living in the forest as brother and sister? Silly, silly girl", she said out loud. Perhaps when this would all be over, she would come back and steel Robin Hood from that little girl that didn't know the first thing about men.

"Well, Gisborne. It's about that time, isn't it? She's about to arrive any minute now. Aren't you excited?", the Sheriff teased Gisborne while they were sitting on the steps of the castle waiting for his future bride to arrive…

"I had meant to give her to Lord Montfitchet, but seeing that you were left without a wife at the last minute", he smiled wickedly seeing Guy become increasingly uncomfortable, "I thought I would place all that wealth that she brings into your hands …aren't' you proud of the great faith I have in you?" … before Guy could respond, he continued "ten chests of gold, Gisborne. That must be a sufficient amount for you to greet her as the most in love of men", he laughed, "did you have by any chance time to inspect the chests?"

"Yes … at least five of them", Guy replied making eye contact for the first time during the conversation …

"Now, now, Gisborne … Don't pout like a little mama's boy … I had to have my comission, didn't I? Do you think it was easy procurring a wife of such means … Clue: NO! You should be grateful"

"I should be grateful if you were dead and joined there by my soon to be wife …and I would be left enjoying my TEN chests of gold!", he thought. After what Marion had done, he hated her and all women with her. The kitchen staff, all consisting of young women, had suffered several rough nights because of this new found aversion. He had decided love was not for him. Instead he choose money. But still he did need a wife, he did need sons so why not marry five chests of gold?

It made better sense than taking an ex-Sheriff's daughter that he bleeded dry anyway. But there was a little voice in his head that could not be silenced and that told him that all the money in the world could not make up for the lost love of a woman like Marion.

"Ah, there she comes!", the Sheriff announced …

The cart approached and stopped in front of the stairs. One of the guards opened the door and helped her out. The Sheriff waited until she came closer.

"Welcome, welcome!", he said in his usual emphatic voice and kissed her on both cheeks …"I am the Sheriff of Nottingham, of course", he said smugginly, "but let me introduce you to someone who might be of more interest to you, though I doubt it". He was the Sheriff after all. "This is Sir Guy of Gisborne, my master-at-arms and your future husband… Gisborne … this is Lady Isabelle de Bracy".

She looked up at him … sitting with both arms crossed. He was a very handsome man. But then again, most monsters are …


	2. Chapter 2: A clue: Yes!

Chapter two – A clue: Yes!

Guy of Gisborne had gone through several types of emotion in the last six months: from being hopeful that he was finally marrying Marion, to being hurt when she left him, to being humiliated by the way people were looking at him in the streets, to being angry at Robin Hood and the woman he had once trusted, to being angry in general ….

So as "his future wife" was making her way up the stairs, closer to him, his ability to smile and be polite was quickly becoming extinct … He looked at the way she was bowing her head, the way she was dressed and he did not like it. As much as he tried, he could not repress the image of Marion, with her proud eyes, the way she carried herself, the courage that sometimes offended him but which he secretly respected … "The girl has no spirit", he concluded …

"It is an honor to meet you, my lord". She broke the silence taking a small bow.

Still Guy said nothing.

"Come, come Gisborne", the Sheriff intervened, "say something! Isn't it an honor for you to meet her too?", then turning towards Isabelle he continued in an embarrassed voice and with a huge grin on his face, "I do apologize. He isn't normally like this. Acting like a virgin teenager, really, Gisborne", he continued as Guy's face turned from annoyed to furious … still, he contained himself … "It is clear you have bewitched him, my dear", the Sheriff concluded laughing out loud.

"It is", Guy interrupted the Sheriff's ironic attack, "a _pleasure_ to meet you, my lady".

"Aha! So it is not a honor .. it is merely a pleasure", Isabelle thought, "well, Sir Guy, it is obvious you do not have many real pleasures in your life … otherwise you would know that pleasure is far superior to honor" …She offered him a small smile and her eyes sparkled as if an inner fire was lighting them …

This unsettled Guy somewhat … He did not expect such a beautiful woman under those simple clothes.

As they made their way through the castle towards the Great Hall …the Sheriff delivered a sudden blow:

"I must say my dear .. that all accounts had described you as a rather plain looking woman. That is truly not the case."

She was quick on her feet, "Yes … I am afraid it was me that started those rumors …".

The Sheriff stopped. He looked at the girl intrigued. A very honest "Why?" came out.

"Well,", she said playing with the scarf around her neck in a very seductive, yet, apparently, unknowing way, "it is surely better to impress, then to disappoint, is it not?", she asked in a sweet voice, giving Guy a quick yet memorable glance …"Which reminds me .. Knowing your love of birds, Sheriff, I took the liberty of adding to your collection" and handed him the cage.

The Sheriff could not hide his enthusiasm. She wondered what he used the little birds for, anyway …

"It is a ", she repeated the name the real Isabelle had confessed to her only two days before, "they're quite rare"…

"Well, aren't you clever", the Sheriff observed, "clever, beautiful and rich … I think I have selected a better wife for you then you have for yourself, Gisborne". Both their attentions were once again concentrated on Guy who was leaning against a wall, not much interested in the conversation …."Well, now it's time for you two doves to run along. Gisborne, escort lady de Bracy to her room" … "You will be married in the morning", he informed her, "Until then, you will be my guest in the castle. We don't want the wolf to have his way with the little lamb just yet. Do we?", he concluded winking at Guy, happy to see that once again he had caused unbalance in his master-at-arms.

Guy offered Isabelle his arm, which she accepted and they started walking through a large hallway. They walked in silence, giving Guy a chance to think about Marion and Isabelle a chance to think about her next move.

"This is to be your room. I will see you tonight. Until then, farewell, my lady". He disposed of her quickly and started to turn around.

"I will see you tonight, Sir Guy", Isabelle answered making the statement more of a promise than anything else. As he turned to face her, she opened the door and disappeared behind it.

Guy did not know what to make of it.

"So, you left Lady Isabelle in her room?", the Sheriff asked.

He was sitting at his table in the Great Hall, in his usual position, feet barefoot and on the table.

Guy was sitting in front of him, standing and becoming increasingly aggravated. As usual …

"Yes", he said roughly and then made a move for the door …

"Ah … and lepers, Gisborne, lepers. Let's hope you don't forget that this time"

He would not …

Now that she was here, she would have to move quickly. He would be back soon and he will be expecting results. "Oh! Let this damn thing be over with!", she thought to herself.

She had already given instructions to Archie to remain in town. He was supposed to go after her to the Montfitchet estate, but considering the change in plans, she would have to let him know that is was going to be Locksley, after all.

She thought of how strange it was that Gisborne did not change the name. He was clearly ambitious and in need of both respect and land so why leave the name?

„Silly, truly silly!".

The night came and a feast was arranged in order to welcome the „future Lady Gisborne". The Sheriff had insisted on it, despite Guy's reservations. He knew how people would be looking at him (behind his back, of course ... they didn't have the courage to do it face on) and what they would be whispering in corners and he had a vague suspicion that the Sheriff knew it also ...

As he made his way through the Great Hall escorting Isabelle de Bracy, he could feel a kind of envy that the nobles seemed to posses when looking at them. She did look especially attractive that night. He had to admit as much, considering his surprised look when he came for her. She had changed her dress: it was still quite simple in color and style but that somehow worked to her benefit because it left much more room for her own body and face to be admired. She had even changed her hair, leaving it loose around her shoulders. Adding the ten chests of gold to this, and Guy could understand why people would be jealous. He liked it.

„Ah! There they come", the Sheriff greeted them, „the two doves. My dear, I would especially like to introduce you to Lord Montfitchet. He was supposed to be your husband as you well know. But I think that you find yourself much more at ease in your present situation".

Montfitchet was a pale, skinny man. He was very plain indeed: small eyes on a rather large face, very little hair ... „It seems the old man has been dead for several weeks", she thought to herself. No match for her "present situation" but still she allowed a small and good smile to appear on her face while the man was greeting her with a rather humiliated and deeply regretful look in his eyes. As she looked at him and then at her future husband, the thought did cross her mind: "The old man could have been more easily manipulated". But she let go of it. "No use crying over spilled milk. Just deal with the present situation as best you can'.

"Do you think she regrets that she will not be marrying you in the end, Montfitchet?", the Sheriff asked wickedly while they watched the rather attractive couple make their way towards the table, "a clue: NO!". The old man said nothing.

She was sited next to Guy in the two closest sits to the Sheriff. "There is deffinatly a partnership there", she thought looking at the two men, although she suspected not much love lost. "No, indeed, they would be ready to stab each other in the back at the slightest provocation".

Soon enough the music started and many of the guests left their sits to dance.

"Let's dance", Isabelle said all of a sudden leaning towards Guy.

"I'm sorry. I don't really dance", Guy responded severely, although she could tell that he was rather nervous.

She allowed herself a momentary appearance by the woman she really was, put her hand on Guy's, looked straight at him with her deep, dark eyes and with the most hypnotic smile she knew, said sweetly: "I say you do", and with that lifted him up and they danced.

Once again he escorted her to her room and as he was saying his goodbyes, he ran his tongue over his lips … She couldn't help but wonder what kissing him would taste like.

Locksley was again awaiting a wedding. People still left shocked by Guy's last attempt at marriage were wondering just how long it would take this new bride to punch him in the face. It couldn't be soon enough for them.

Guy was walking around, seeing if everything was in order, not so much for his bride, but more because the Sheriff had announced he would come to the ceremony. "I'm just curious to see if you can hold on to this one, Gisborne. Can you blame me?". Guy knew that Marion had given the Sheriff a very good source of jokes on his account for a very long time to come. One more reason to want revenge.

He had not taken the trouble of decorating the manor. What was the point? He did not care to impress her. They would have a marriage of sweet ignorance and complete lack of understanding. He would respect her if she didn't give him cause not to do so, but he couldn't care less for who she was and it was obvious he would not make the mistake of showing anyone anything of his soul. If he still had one. He wasn't sure anymore.

The arrival of the bride was announced so he made his way to the chapel to wait for her there. He had learned his lesson from the last experience.

Walking towards the chapel, she could see that the estate did not look at all arranged for a wedding. She was sure he had done this on propose, to show her just what their marriage would be like, mainly nothing special. This calmed her. It meant he would stay out of her way most of the time which would give her opportunity to carry out her plan.

When she kneeled next to him in front of the priest, he could see how different her veil was from Marion's. It was much more simple and transparent. "Like rain", he thought. Remembering that moment hurt. To know how close he had been to marring a woman that would have brought some kind of peace to his heart and that he would never get that chance again.

"Do you have a ring?", the priest asked. Guy took out a much simpler ring then the one he had given to Marion. "Why spend any extra money?", he thought …and tried putting it on Isabelle's finger. But the ring was stuck.

Slowly, she raised her hand close to her mouth, licked the finger in question and then placed the ring herself …

This action sent a sudden sensation in Guy, somewhere below the waist.

The priest pronounced them husband and wife and they stood up. He raised her veil, leaned over and gave her the smallest of kisses.

Still she could see that he tasted like lemons and apples …

to be continued ….


	3. Chapter 3: Place your hand

BEFORE READING: Ok … so this is chapter three and I wanted to do something different with it conssidering you all could guess what was coming after chapter two, which is the wedding night … didn't want to just write three words about it and move on and I didn't want to have a full on, explicit sex scene (just yet anyway … I'm sure those will come later in the story) so I have made this chapter a sort of songfic if you will, although it's a little more complex then that … the song is "Place your hand", played by Melissa Etheridge … So with the help of her incredible voice and beautiful lyrics I have managed to write what I think is my favorite piece of fanfiction I have ever written …

PS: for the ones that don't like Gisborne … just remember what I have written does not change who he is and I have no desire to change him as my story progresses so do not think of this as justification for his actions but more like a proof that he is human … and like most humans he is quite capable of fealing love, fear, remorse …

The lines in italic are the actual lyrics to the song …

And just to be on the safe side I'm going to rate this chapter a** T**.

Enjoy!

Chapter III – Place your hand

The wedding festivity had been over for several hours. All of the guests had already gone home, driven by fear of night attacks from the outlaws but mostly because of the particular mood of the groom, that was even gloomier and darker then usual. They all felt compelled to get out of his way and feel sorry for the unfortunate woman that had just married him.

All of the house was silent, as he made his way into the dining hall. "Even Thornton has gone to bed", he thought as he realized that he had never been awake after Thornton had retired. He dragged a chair near the fire. He was sitting between all of the evidence that were proving to him over and over again that he had gotten married … but not to her. He contemplated this, while drinking his wine and looking into the fire, as if in deep meditation.

He knew she was up there, in her room … their room. But he thought it better to make her wait. He had never been one to make any woman wait when it came to having his way with her, but this was different. This was not just any woman, this was his wife … Lady Gisborne. A title he had thought to give to only one woman. So not going upstairs was his way of avoiding reality, even if it was for just a short time. "Not yet! Let's wait a little longer", he thought looking into the fire once more as if he was searching for something.

As the night was advancing slowly, he could feel the old fears and anguish take a hold of him once more. "_I have an image in my pocket_", he thought, "_of some dark demon_". He knew where it came from. Since he had started working for the Sheriff, he did not have peace any more. "_That temptation brought to life_", he continued. It had been his need for power, for influence, for wealth that had awakened it. He hadn't stopped to think what he was giving up when he made his decision. Now he knew. The horrible thing was … if he had to do it again, he would not change anything.

"_It chokes all of my breath out_" , he cried silently as he started pacing up and down the room. "Until", he pauses … but it's there … "_Till morning comes to night_". And beyond. Always …

As he looks at his glass, half empty, he knows it's time. "Time to properly greet my wife", he sais softly with a cold look in his eyes. He starts to make his way up the stairs, touching the wooden banisters and slowly closing his eyes. He passes the room in which he kept his fortune (the one he had made, anyway) and rememberes how rich he had felt when showing them to Marion. He did not feel so, now. There was just emptiness, anguish and demons. It was night … .

He stopped in front of the door, not knowing if he was going to go in. He closed his eyes again. "_Place your hand_", he had thought of telling Marion on their wedding night, "_my body will decide_". "_Place your hand … my anger will subside_". He opened his eyes. Marion was no more, but the anger … oh, the anger was still there.

He finally opened the door. Slowly, as a thief would, in hopes that she would be asleep. That was not the case. She was sitting in front of the mirror, in a white cloth, brushing her hair. If she heard him come in, she did not show it …Her eyes were closed as she put the brush down and started running her fingers through her hair over and over again.

He sat in silence, almost hypnotized as she moved her hands and arms through her hair. He did not say anything, he did not even move … just watched her as if she was a dream. "A sea of dark and red", he thought. The way she moved … her head and hair … it seemed there was music in the room. But there was none. Just her …

Slowly, she let her arms down, opened her eyes and turned to face him. She was not smiling or extending her hands but her eyes touched him and invited him closer.

He took a few steps inside the room … their room … paused and extended his hand, calling her without even realizing it …

As she started making her way towards him, the cloth she was wrapped around in seemed in serious danger of falling off… by some miracle, it didn't. As if she had commanded it to just drop a little more and stop there … on the border between torment and satisfaction.

She was now close enough to him and placed her hand in his. A soft current passed through his body as he pulled her closer to him. Close enough to feel her breath on his skin. It felt hot and light, like the first summer rain falling on the grass.

"_There are fragments of possession_" … he realized that as soon as he touched her face. In both him and her. He did not know how but he felt there was something of him in her. He had a sudden feeling she had sensed it too …

"…_past relations_ …" …Marion suddenly came to mind. Out of nowhere …He started caressing her shoulders as he made his way to her mouth …"Hot and cold … and warm … and soft" … His fingers started running up and down her arms as he felt her body become more and more tangled with his …

Marion, again, tormenting him …"_Splinter in my skin_", he thought as he looked past her image and into those dark eyes that were waiting for him . He buried his face in her hair, smelling it, absorbing it … "Make me forget" …

He looked once more into her eyes, while he was slowly kissing her fingers … She seemed so light and free … "You do not know me", he would have wanted to say, "You do not know what lives inside me" … "_A fear so black and hallow, it can suffocate creation_" … He spoiled everything he touched … and yet he was touching her.

As he slowly unwrapped the cloth to reveal her … he closed his eyes. Images of Marion came over him, forcing him to look once more at the woman in front of him … "_They refuse to let you in_", he thought as he dropped his hands just as the material was leaving the surface of her body.

Her eyes became softer and a light was awaken in them as she lifted her hand and started caressing him. Not an inch more of her body was touching him, just her hands. Her fingers drawing out the contour of his eyebrows, slowly descending … softly touching his closed eyes … making out the line of his jaw and then … lightly, ever lightly touching the outline of his lips over and over again until he once more opened his eyes.

"_Place your hand_", he heard himself say in his mind as he took one of her hands and put it over his heart, "_my body will decide_". "_Place your hand_", she started caressing his hair, "Make … _my anger subside_". A tear falls out …

He starts pushing her closer and closer to the bed until she is slowly thrown on it …As he places himself on top of her … her legs wrapped around him … he understands what melting feels like for the first time …

As he makes his way out of his sleep, he opens his eyes to find that dawn is approaching fast. That is when he realizes it: he has slept with no demon tonight … No nightmare had tormented him as it did every night …

As he looks around he can see her hands still placed over his body … He smiles … "_They speak to me like prophets in my dreams …_"

Even though it took a lot of determination to get out of bed and make his way to Nottingham to attend yet another torture session that the Sheriff had insisted on, he felt grateful for it too. He felt quite ashamed at the way he had behaved the night before, at the vulnerability that she had brought to the surface … so avoiding her for an entire day seemed a good thing …

He hadn't planned on missing her, though … Especially while he was burning a man's skin with a flaming sword. Somehow the proximity of the two events seemed pure blasphemy … For the moment he chased her image away, leaving room for the screams and agony of a poor piece of meat that had once been a man …

"_Sometimes I think it's easy … too easy for the living to receive the promised land_", he thought while he was once again passing the burning sword over the man's body, knowing that with just saying he was sorry ,he would be forgiven … That is, if he meant it … "Ah! There's always a catch … isn't there?"

He was once again at Locksley and it was nearly dusk …She was in the dining hall, no doubt … he started moving towards the room and suddenly felt he couldn't …

He could not go in there, to be near her like that … and for the first time he felt the need to wash his hands of the blood …

What had started as a simple cleaning, turned into much more and he was now furiously rubbing his hands against a rugged instrument, being very close to exchanging his own blood with the one he had recently spilled …

And then her hands reached in … Covering his own, forcing him to stop … "_Can flesh provide the answer?_", he thought, "_the reason for sensation_" …

She lifted them up near to her face … and started kissing them slowly … dropping kisses on each one, still holding them in hers as she looked up into his eyes … "_Justify your hand_", he commanded without saying a word … She grabbed a towel… "_Place your hand_" … put it over his hands … "_My body will decide_" … and dried them … Then without saying a word, she made her way back to the dining hall …

He turned around to look at her and once again there was no demon.

She had placed her hand and his anger had subsided ….

To be continued …


	4. Chapter 4: Going under

Chapter 4 – Going under

Nottingham had gone completely mad. The Sheriff had received yet another late night visit from Robin Hood asking for something or the other, and now he had become completely paranoid, demanding more security, punishments and of course a chase down of the outlaws.

"This is my land, not his!", the Sheriff was bellowing on and on …

Gisborne was more than happy to comply. Since his failed wedding to Marion, the Sheriff had not given orders for any attacks to be carried out in the forest. Guy had a slight suspicion it had something to do with punishing him, with showing him just how little his dishonor meant to the Sheriff. "The time will come … the time will come". That was the only thought that had kept him calm all these months. Now there was something else that was giving him more patience that he thought he had … but he avoided facing that "detail".

As he was making his way out of the Great Hall, on his way to the stables to pick up his horse and prepare his men, the Sheriff stopped him:

"Gisborne … where are you going?", he asked with pretended ignorance …

"Into the forest, my lord", Guy replied with obvious haste.

"Oh, no, no … you are not going after Robin Hood, Gisborne …I've sent Huntington, the new leftenent, after him" …

This seriously unbalanced Guy … to such an extent that for a second the Sheriff could actually feel shivers down his back … that was mostly why he did what he did with Gisborne. He was the only one to ever make him truly afraid … "Thank God, I've got him under my thumb …. If he ever realizes what he could actually do I would be in grave danger" …

"My lord", Guy was trying very hard to control himself. He looked at this little, ridiculous man and he knew how easily he could squash him but he also knew the consequences of such an action so he shoved his feet into the ground firmly and spoke with as much restraint as he could manage… "With all due respect, my lord, Robin Hood was my project from the beginning … I should be in charge of any new developments that might …"

"La di dah di dah … Gisborne … you're as plain as song, forever on one note …You are my master-at-arms so you're place is with me in these difficult times, not off to the forest as some slighted, in love poet! "

"My lord!", Guy raised his voice and stood as straight at he could … This put him comfortably above the man that was giving him such offence … "Huntington is new … he does not know the proper ways of dealing with the outlaws …"

"Well … we'll see what happens … he might surprise us! But in the meanwhile there is a man in the prison that I want you to give 'our special treatment' to"… "After all that is your greatest talent, is it not?", the Sheriff concluded in a tone that was meant to give the greatest of compliments …

But Guy knew better. What he actually meant was that he was an unthinking brute who was only good at causing pain …

It was not the case, but he had learned very early on that most men can go into battle and cause terrible destruction and death, they can plan the end for hundreds of people at the time, but they get squeamish when it comes to being face to face with someone and inflicting pain in order to get something out of them. So in order to move up and get what he wanted, he took on that job. It was difficult in the beginning but he found that with time you just didn't care anymore. A mother, a man, a child … they all become the same thing: steps on your way up … so you do what is necessary.

"And besides, Gisborne" … the Sheriff was not yet done … "you are a recently married man … What would it look like if you would leave for the woods for what could possibly be days, when you have a new wife at home waiting for you. How is my little dove?".

Guy crossed his arms and just looked away, as he often did when dealing with the Sheriff … "She is fine".

"I shall understand of course if you have to leave early for Locksley …We wouldn't want your wife to be angry with you for arriving late for dinner … Be careful Gisborne not to be put on a very tight leash … most married men are … which is why I never got married". The Sheriff finished making his little "wedding contribution", as he liked to think of it, and then moved slowly away leaving Gisborne alone outside the stables.

"Damn Huntington", he thought and pushed a bench with his leg. "Damn Robin Hood". He picked up the same unfortunate bench and threw it upside down.

He started pacing around in anger. He had planned on arriving home in time for dinner, but now that he thought about it better, he was going to be late. "Very late" … Could she actually think of ordering him what hours to keep?

He arrived at Locksley late into the night. He expected everyone to be asleep. Well, Thornton would be up, of course, as he was every night, waiting to receive him but as he was getting closer to the Manor he could also see that there were lights in the dining hall …

As he was getting of his horse, Thornton came out. "Good evening, my lord".

"Good evening, Thornton. Why are there still lights in the dining hall?", he asked in an angry voice … "who is still up?"

"It's the mistress, my lord", the man answered quickly, "She said she was going to wait for you."

"No doubt to reproach my arrival at such an hour", he thought. There would defiantly be raised voices, angry looks, even tears. "Her kind always cries". But she had picked the wrong man to have a fight with, and the wrong night. He was tired and angry and had had his fill of attacks for one day. He was not going to put up with them in his own house … "If she thinks that just because of my behavior that first night, she can have her way with me, she is mistaken. I will show her who is master of this house!".

Since their wedding night, they had shared intimacy every night that fallowed, and although it was still very pleasurable, he had found her quite different form that first night. She was much more reserved. She had not caused the same emotions in him.

That being said, she had started causing other types of emotion. She seemed so innocent, so pure … almost ashamed of what she had done that first night, of the way she had charmed him that he could not help but feel tenderness at the thought of spending the night with her. Their night activities were a little less varied then Guy would have liked, and with any other woman he would have imposed his will a long time ago but she was his wife … and the thought of possessing something that innocent and of not having her afraid of him was motivating him in quite the same way as marring Marion had done once.

Tenderness was, however, the last thing on his mind while he was making his way towards the dining hall, with large yet unhurried steps. As he was getting ready to burst in and sit on his chair in a very theatrical manner, he saw her near the fire. Her face glowing in the light. It seemed like her hair was mixed with the fire. It was shining and burning in colors of black, and red … and gold. He could tell that she had recently taken a bath because her hair was still a little damp and wavy.

She was wearing a very simple white dress that was quite lose around her body. That combined with the fire did not leave much room for concealment. She was sitting on the large armchair and absently shoving the burning logs with a stick.

As he looked across the room he could see the table had been set, his favorite wine brought from the cellar, his place at the table arranged along with hers, his chair prepared… Everything was done just the way he always liked it to be …

He approached the fire quietly and put his hand on her shoulder … "Isabelle", he said softly.

She clearly had not heard him and jumped up the armchair, instantly, looking quite disheveled … "My lord … I did not hear you come in …"

He looked down at his boots …"Yes, I can tell. I'm sorry if I scared you …". As if he had just remembered something he asked: "What are you still doing up?"

"I was waiting for you my lord", she answered to his great pleasure, "I took the liberty of allowing the servants to eat and go to bed. I hope I have not caused offence" …

"You are the mistress of this house, my lady. It is your decision", he answered with a cunning smile measuring her from top to bottom …"Have you eaten?", he asked already suspecting the answer …

"No, my lord … I was waiting for you", she answered with the sweetest honesty in her eyes. He now had someone who would wait to eat with him, and that person wasn't being forced. This was deffinatly a first for Guy.

"Would you like me to serve you now, my lord?" … He nodded as he made his way to his chair … She left the room only to return minutes later with the food …

"She has kept it warm", he thought as he began eating … As she poured him some wine, he could suddenly hear a very familiar noise coming from his wife's stomach … he looked up at her in amusement …

She blushed almost instantly, "You must excuse me, my lord", she said evidently embarrassed, "I must be hungrier then I thought." … she tried to pull away but Guy grabbed her arm and pulled her near him until she ultimately fell in his lap … He caressed her face … "You know …you do not have to wait for me with dinner every time I am late", and kissed her softly … then his eyes turned from tender to wolfish and a very familiar half smile appeared on the left side of his mouth … "but I do expect you to wait for me before you take your bath" and with that he moved his hand under her dress …

From that day on, Guy made it a rule to arrive on time for dinner every night …


	5. Chapter 5: The gift

before reading: I had ment to make this chapter shorter, but Sir Guy had other plans ... and you know how difficult he can get and you really can't say no becasue the consequences can be fatal so I let him have his way and his came out:)

anyway, a lot happens in this chapter. It might not seem like much but trust me they're all pieces of the puzzle ... hope you like it!

Chapter 5 – The gift

Leaving Nottingham for Locksley had always been Guy's favorite time of day … It was the moment when he could pretend to be less then he was , to cut away those "minor details" that constituted his main job as the Sheriff's right hand man. Of course reminders of those details could be found in every man, woman and child he would meet along the way. He would have liked things to be different but this fear, this oversized image they had for him kept them in line so he had to content himself with that.

But Locksley had become much more appealing in the last couple of months, mainly because of the presence of the only person to never look at him with fear or repulsion. He had once mistaken Marion's looks for those he was receiving these days, but now he knew the difference.

As he was once again grabbing his horse to start his journey home, he was beginning to imagine holding Isabelle in his arms, kissing her, smelling her hair, convincing her to do things that would make her blush instantly. "God! I love to make her blush!", he thought with a perverted smile on his face tilting his head back.

"My lord … my lord …"

This was a most unwelcome interruption. Guy made that perfectly clear when he turned around to face the source of his displeasure. "What do you want?", he asked sharpishly making the other man uncomfortable.

"My lord … I … I" … Huntington began hesitantly

"Well, go on man! I don't have all day!", Guy bellowed out. He usually had little patience with his men, but this was Huntington and the Sheriff's preference was still fresh in Guy's mind so there was no patience what so ever for the new lieutenant.

"I just wanted to say that I apologize for stepping over you business", the man finally blubbered out looking down and becoming increasingly uncomfortable …

Guy did not know what to make of this. He knew that Huntington had spent three days in the forest making no progress towards finding the outlaws and it had been the worst days of his life. Just like he had suspected from the beginning. You could tell that Huntington was not used to hard circumstances. His manners were too soft, his hands too small. "You can't trust a man with small hands", Gisborne had thought from the first time he had seen him. And there was something else about this one. Something he could not quite put his finger on, but his face , the way he moved just did not inspire confidence … He did not trust him …

"Is that all?", Guy said frowning. The man nodded. "Then return to your post and never bother me again!". Gisborne grabbed the man's collar and threw him a good ten feet.

Locksley had some of the best lands in the area. He had known that ever since he picked them. Now they were his and he would let no one take them away.

But entering his yard now, he had to admit that his house had become much more appealing. It had a mistress now. And Isabelle had taken her role as Lady Gisborne very seriously. She coordinated the servants with perfect ease, kept the garden looking fresh and always had the house ready for him when he would arrive.

She had made it a custom to wait for him in the dining hall. Their pre-bedroom interactions were quite formal most of the time but still Guy enjoyed being asked about his day, even if he could never bring himself to tell her the truth. How can you tell someone who has been living in perfect harmony all of her life about pain, suffering and having to inflict all of that to achieve a higher propose? "No, she would not understand. She would disapprove of it. She would be scared by me" … So he said very little …

This time, when he entered the dining hall he did not find her there. He thought this to be strange. "Where could she have gone?" …

"Thornton! … Thornton", he was starting to lose his patience, "Thornton!" …

The man finally appeared … "Yes, my lord?"

"Where is lady Gisborne?"

The man looked a little awkward while he was answering, "The mistress is in the kitchen, my lord".

Guy looked appalled, "The kitchen? What on Earth is she doing in the kitchen?". But before the old man could answer, Guy had already left the room.

The surprise he felt when he was told the news did not prepare him for the sight of his wife holding a ladle and slaving away over a large pot… Her hair was held loosely in a knot and she had put a cloth over it to keep it from falling out. She looked like a peasant girl. A peasant girl he would have slept with in an instance, no doubt, but a peasant girl nonetheless.

As soon as the kitchen staff, consisting of two young and very pretty girls with which he had shared some nights of pleasure and one older woman he would have never thought of touching, all stood up and bowed. Looking quite shocked and terrified. They had never seen the master in the kitchen before.

"Everyone out!", he commanded. The women did not need to be told twice and were gone in a matter of seconds.

Isabelle looked up quite startled, dropped her ladle and immediately bowed her head.

He hated when she did that. He would have preferred her fighting back, but this just reminded him of a child awaiting punishment. And he deffinatly had no interest in being her father …

"What are you doing in the kitchen, Isabelle?". He tried to be calm but this was no way to behave …

"I … I", she hesitated looking for the right answer. It didn't come. "I was cooking …"

"Do I need to remind you of your position in this house?". He was starting to get angry.

"No, my lord", she said in a soft voice …

"Are you sure because it seems to me that you have imagined yourself to be one of the kitchen girls …. You …", he continued getting closer and grabbing her arms, "you are the lady of this house and as such it is your job to make others work for you, not the other way around!"

"I'm sorry", she said in a manner that seemed more fitting for a child, raising her eyes to look at him. Tears were falling out …

"All right … there is no need to cry", he said severely but feeling quite ashamed, "You're done cooking …"

"No, my lord, please. Could you consider letting me cook again?", she asked as if she was asking to go out and play …

He was just getting out of the kitchen, but that stopped him in his tracks …He turned around. What was wrong with this girl? "Didn't I make myself clear?"

"Yes, yes, you did", she started, eyes still in the ground, "but the truth is I have such very few responsibilities and you are away for such large periods of the day that I often find myself without occupation "…

"Do some sawing, brush your hair … or something". He had no idea what ladies did all day long but he was quite sure there was no cooking involved … Just as he was getting ready to turn her down for the second time, she added: "The truth is I like cooking for you. It gives me pleasure", looking up for the first time …

This made him react as if he were a small child. "Really?" was all that came out and he kept looking at her in disbelief, searching for signs on her face …

How could he turn her down now? … He caressed her face and simply said: "We'll see" …

He took her hand in his and started making little circles inside it, feeling her shiver under his touch … He smiled and started walking away, then turned around and said: "Now I want to eat! I'm starving. Shall we go?". He offered her his arm which she accepted and they made their way into the dinning hall.

He had already pulled her chair at the table, when she suddenly remembered something: "Do you want some wine? I had it brought from the cellar". He nodded and watched her make her way to the back of the room where a pitcher filled with wine had been placed.

As she was pouring wine into a goblet, his arms surrounded her waist and finally rested on her hands, forcing her to put the pitcher down and turn to face him. He placed his arms one on each side of her against the table and kissed her pressing his body into hers. "My lord, please", she tried to reason looking around quite flushed, "someone could see us!"

He did not seem very worried about that … and continued kissing her while one of his hands had taken a dangerous route starting from her ankle and ending further up her thigh. "My lord, please", she tried again …

He finally stopped long enough to look at her … "Is it not a wife's duty to give her husband pleasure?", he asked with his usual wolfish smile …

"Yes, of course", she replied in a low, shy voice trying very hard not to look at him, "but" …

He pulled her even closer towards him, lifting her on to the table …"Well then, woman, give your husband pleasure" … and with that, he accepted no more defenses and pushed her towards the wall. In doing so, he made the goblet and pitcher fall down and spill all of their content.

But, somehow wine did not seem so important in that particular moment ….

"No! Stop it!". It was night and the house had been asleep for several hours, when Guy was awaken by his wife's cries. He instinctively reached for his dagger which he kept close at all time, but realized soon enough that there was no danger. They were alone and his wife was asleep.

She was moving her feet and arms like she was trying to get rid of something … or someone … "Stop it! No!" … it was the only thing she kept saying …

He reached over to her and pulled her of the pillow. "Isabelle!", he said, "wake up! Isabelle". He started shaking her until she opened her eyes …

Her eyes were confused, her face disheveled … "No! Stop it!". She was now screaming and hitting him trying to make him take his hands off her … Her voice was strong and harsh. Not at all the voice Guy had grown accustomed to …

"Isabelle … calm down", he said softly but in a commanding manner … Finally she looked up at him and seem to understand where she was …

"I am sorry, my lord. I have waken you from your sleep …", she said looking around, trying to escape his insistant blue gaze …

"What is the matter? What has made you react in such a manner?". She still looked quite shaken up. "It must have been quite the nightmare", he concluded …

He knew that quite well. He had had dreams like that. Dreams that seem more real then reality itself. When all your demons and anguish reach the surface and show you just what they can do. He couldn't help put wonder what demon had set his sight on Isabelle and was now holding her so tightly as to make her lose her breath …

"It was nothing, my lord", she finally said in a low voice closing her eyes briefly and shaking her head as if to chase the dream away …

But he did not let go. He wanted an answer and he was going to get one so he held onto her and starred her down until she finally succumbed … "It was about my father", she said slowly looking away from him, "He wasn't very kind to me …" and continued to stare into the dark …

Even if there was no light in the room, Guy could still make out the essential features of her face and he understood that he would not get anymore out of her then. That confession, as small as it was, had seemed to cause her extreme anguish and he did not want to add to that …So he simply pulled her near him and held her in his arms … "Go to sleep now. I am here" …

She looked up at him, put her hand on his chest and asked as if she was a child: "You will not go away?"

"No", he replied and started caressing her hair with his hand … Soon enough she was asleep.

When he woke up the next morning, she was not in his arms anymore. He was cold. "No fire hair to keep me warm", he thought as he stretched his legs. His eyes soon found her in front of the mirror, brushing her hair.

In the sharp light of morning her hair was not reddish anymore. It was a dark brown. He had the sequence down right if he thought about it. Dark in the morning… dark and red in the afternoon … dark, red and gold by candle light at night … He could actually say what time of day it was by looking at his wife's hair.

The thought brought a smile to his face as he watched her pull her hair up in what seemed to be a very decent loop. He did not like when she did that. It was like watching her tame herself. He would have liked her to let her hair down, around her shoulders as she had done that first night in Nottingham. He had seen the effect it had on her. "Quite hypnotic", he thought. She seemed a different woman that night and remembering the looks of envy the nobles had given him made him want it even more.

But still, he could now see that she was beautiful. He loved watching her hands make their way through her hair over and over, as she did every morning. But looking at her hands today he was severely displeased.

"The wedding ring", he thought with anger. It was so small and stingy. What ever had possessed him to give her such a ring? It was not fit for the hands of 'Lady Gisborne' … "It is not fit for her hands!".

Before he knew what he was doing, he had already gotten out of bed and came closer to her. He took the hand in question, brought it closer to his mouth and kissed it.

She was surprised … "My lord, you are awake …". "Shall I call for your bath?"…

But he was clearly not listening to her, being quite concentrated looking at her left hand that he was still holding. All of a sudden he tried to take the ring out … "I do not like this ring!". But the object refused to leave the finger it had been placed on two months earlier …

She immediately pulled her hand and held it very close to her chest … "My lord, what are you doing?". He finally looked at her only to find that she was completely astonished.

He smiled and once again took her hand in his. "I do not like this ring!", he said looking at her this time with a very convinced look in his eyes. Suddenly he remembered something and dropped his eyes on her finger. He took her finger into his mouth. This time the ring was easily removed. He placed in his pocket and then quickly said: "I will buy you a new one".

"No!", she said being obviously angry.

He looked at her quite puzzled … "Isabelle", he tried again this time caressing her face, "I will buy you a new one. A better one!", he added as to prove his point …

"But I want that one!", she continued obstinately. "Besides you could never buy me a better one!" …

This offended him. Did she think that he had given her that ring because he couldn't afford a more expensive one? Suddenly he became quite rigid as he stood up very straight and took a few steps backwards …

"My lady, I can assure you …", he began in a very formal manner …

"You can't buy me a better one", she interrupted, "because this is my wedding ring … and no matter how beautiful the other is going to be it's not going to be my wedding ring … It's just going to be a beautiful piece of jewelry". She concluded by extending her hand: "So, please, my lord, give me back my ring" …

He spent a few seconds in disbelief, thinking of how ridiculous he had been in thinking that any ring, for as beautiful as it could be, would ever match her. Then he reached for his pocket, took out the ring and placed it back on her finger.

"Thank you", she said with a small smile on her face. She stood up from her chair and as she was passing him on her way to the cloths chest, she kissed him softly on the cheek.

Guy turned around to look at her, while she was taking out one of her dresses. "Simple and grey … and stingy", he thought.

A half grin appeared on his face as he sat down on the chair facing her. "You know … I've been thinking", he paused giving her time to turn around and look at him. "You should go and have some dresses made …". "Something …", he continued, "more fitting for a married woman".

"And not some virgin nun", he thought to himself, "I don't want people thinking I'm not performing my duties".

"Of course, my lord, if you want me to", she said still holding her grey dress looking very uncomfortable, "and you think it's not going to be too much of an expense" …

He threw his head back in frustration. Not this again! He stood up from the chair and started walking towards her. "I can assure you, Isabelle, I am quite rich enough to afford to buy you cloths" …

She looked down ashamed of herself. "Of course, my lord. Believe me, I did not mean to give offence. It's just that…". She stopped. He was now so close to her that she could feel his breath on her neck.

"It's just what?", he whispered in her ear taking her by the waist and lifting her so she could have no other choice but to look in his eyes. She looked so small and shy that he couldn't help but feel like the snake persuading Eve to take the apple. He liked it.

"It's just that my father always said that spending money on cloths was a useless waste. When I was at home I made my own dresses", she said pointing to the grey dress she still had in her hands.

This unbalanced Guy somewhat. It was the second time Isabelle had talked about her father. And on both occasions it hadn't been positive. From what he had heard, lord de Bracy loved his daughter very much. Surely a man that would give his daughter such a large dowry must love her a great deal. But looking into Isabelle's eyes he could see how honest and pain-filled they looked, so he pushed those thoughts aside.

He grabbed the grey dress from Isabelle's hands and threw it away. "Well, we'll have no more of that", he said slowly. "You will go to the dress maker today. There's a very good one here at Locksley". He had made sure to bring her before his wedding to Marion. "You will go today, yes?", he asked taking her face in his hands. She nodded.

A thought suddenly crossed his mind and he smiled wolfishly … "Come to think of it", he said wrapping his finger around a strand of hair that had fallen from her loop, "I'll come with you". He would make sure there would be no more black, brown or grey anywhere near her.

And with that he lifted her off the ground and threw her on the bed.

As he was making his way to Nottingham, he thought of how he could make up for giving Isabelle that "small, stingy ring". He was so wrapped in that thought that he failed to see five armed men heading for him and his escort.

When he finally saw them, they were quite close to him. This did not unbalance him because he knew that five men were no match for his soldiers.

"Look what we have here! If it isn't Lord Gisborne himself", said one of the men mocking him.

He could not believe that there would be someone so insane as to attack him , especially in such a small number. "Do you really want to die today?", he addressed the man, "You should have told me. I would have come to your house. You did not need to bother walking all this way", he said in a cold, serious voice …

Just at that moment one of the other man reached for his knife and threw it at Gisborne. It was obvious that the man was an expert with daggers.

"My lord!" … Guy felt as one of the soldiers pushed him just in time, so the dagger landed on the ground.

Guy looked around. It had been Huntington. He had saved his life.

He did not let this discovery affect him and fixed his position in the saddle. By this time, the rest of his soldiers had already sized the five men.

Guy looked at them with a look of steel, "Take them to the prison", he said with a voice that warned of things to come. Then he turned to his men with quite the same look, "Try not to let them escape, you miserable wretches!" then he speed up his horse towards Nottingham.

He would have to punish his men severely for their incompetence …. Except for Huntington. He was now starting to see the lieutenant in quite a different light …

"I have a gift for you".

Isabelle was busy changing her dress for dinner so she did not hear Guy come into the bedchamber. She looked up quickly, ashamed that she had been caught in such an intimate moment. She held the untied dress close to her body.

He smiled as he approached her and placed a box in her hand making the dress fall of her shoulders. He was not counting on that, but he did not mind.

She sat with the box in her hands, looking at him, unsure of what to do with it.

"Well, open it!", he was starting to lose his patience …

"Yes, of course … I apologize …I", she tried excusing herself but then looked at him and saw that he was slowly becoming aggravated so she said nothing more and opened the box. It was a necklace …Very simple, made from gold and some small rubies …

Guy had found it at the fair in Nottingham and bought it immediately. He had come to the conclusion that paying what had been a substantial amount on that necklace was the only way to make up for the "simple, stingy ring" …But she did not seem to be interested. She kept looking at the box over and over again. She was not making the slightest movement to pick it up, no look of appreciation, no words.

He felt disappointed. "You do not like it", he said lowering his head, remembering that he had danced this dance once before. "I will take it back …", and tried to grab the box out of Isabelle's hands.

Her hands pulled out quickly taking the box with them … "No, my lord. Please, you misunderstand me", she said looking up at him. He could see she had tears in her eyes … He did not understand why …

"I do like it. I love it, as a matter of fact …" …This confession brought a smile to his face.

"Can I put it around your neck?". She nodded.

He took the box as she turned around. He placed the necklace and tied it adding a little kiss while doing so, just to keep it well sealed …

"How does it look?", she asked with the biggest smile on her face …

He did not answer her. Instead took her by the hand towards the corner of the room, and placed her in front of the mirror. He let her look at herself while he wrapped his arms around her and rested his chin on her shoulder.

The mirror only confirmed what he already knew… She was beautiful …

To be continued


	6. Chapter 6: Outside help

Ok … just a few words before you read … so this chapter was supposed to contain a part in which I intorduced Robin Hood, most likley in a fight with Gisborne, because Marian66 made a special request . Bu as I started writing it turend into somethingelse completley, so here you go (especially you). Hope you like it and I'll have you know it is the longest chapter I've written in this story so far … Thank you!

Ps: hope I've got Robin right! (cringes and crosses fingers )

Chapter 6 – Outside help

There was apparent peace at Locksley. It was a beautiful day and the peasants went about their business, as on any other day of the year. But there was reason for cheerfulness because the first crops of the year were starting to be collected and the people could finally see results to their hard work.

The apple cart sat on one side of the lake, while the women were washing the clothes on the other, with children running around, looking impatiently from time to time at the apples that seemed to beg to be eaten.

But they did not touch them. They knew the consequences of such an action very well. The first cart of apples belonged to the master, and he would not take it kindly on some children eating his apples before he had had a chance to inspect them … But Guy was nowhere in sight …

Through the wet sheets hung out to dry, two shadows were making their way.

"Master, I don't see why we couldn't just leave the money with him? Why did we have to come all the way to the Manor?"

"I already explained, Much", Robin looked back irritated, "his house is guarded … plus I have to see something …", he mumbled …

"Yes … I know what you want to see and frankly I think it's pointless and dangerous"

"Oh … you mean to tell me you're not curious?", Robin looked at Much in amusement, "You could just go back, you know, … I think I can handle it on my own", Robin concluded confidently …

"Well … now that I'm here" …

Robin laughed. Much didn't want to admit it but he was just as curious as him to see the new Lady Gisborne. Or better yet, what Gisborne had made of his wife in the three months that they had been married.

Suddenly, Thornton came out of the house and headed for Mary who was busy washing a undershift. He noticed Robin almost instantly.

"Robin, what are you doing here? It's dangerous. The master has doubled the guard since …"

"Since, he's gotten married … Yes, I know", Robin finished the sentence for him. "What? Is he afraid she'll run away?", he said laughing. The memory of Marion coming out of the church and leaving Gisborne empty handed in front of the altar still managed to fill him with satisfaction.

"Master … the money!", Much stepped in looking around quite worried …

"Ah …", Robin suddnatly remembered and took out some gold coins, "Thornton … I heard that John Red and his family are going to be thrown out of their home because they have not been able to pay their taxes …Here … I want you to give this to them. I know Anne, the eldest daughter works in the kitchen …", he said placing the coins in Thornton's hand …

"Oh, Robin, this is most generous of you. They will be so grateful".

As Robin was, once again, enjoying the compliments that were given to him, a very familiar black leathered figure stepped out of the house …

"Oh, it's the master!", Thornton looked alarmed, "You have to go, Robin …"

"Yes, master … let's go!", Much was also very eager to leave and grabbed on Robin's arm pulling him away …

"Not yet …", said Robin pushing Much's hand. He could see that there was something else happening. As Gisborne was stepping out he extended his arm which was soon taken by the hand of a woman.

"Who is that?", said Robin as if he was remembering something.

"That's the mistress", Thornton responded, "Lady Isabelle …"

"Well … what do you know! …", Robin said in amazement …

"But isn't that …?", Much asked evidently confused …

"Yes, it is …", Robin responded quite sure of himself …

"Who is what? What are you talking about?". Thornton could not understand why Robin and Much were smiling in such a cunning manner.

"It's that nun he liked …", Much finally explained. But this only confused Thornton more.

"I didn't like her!", Robin jumped … "And she's not a nun!"

"Obviously not …", Much observed pointing at Isabelle. She was wearing a green dress, fitted around her body, revealing just enough skin to make others want to see more. Her hair was loose around her shoulders, falling in waves of red and gold under the sunlight …

"I didn't think she was so beautiful", Much said with a look of surprise on his face ..

"And that's why I'm me and you're you, Much". Robin put his elbow on Much's shoulder and leaned a little placing his other hand on his waist, as if he had just stated one of the known facts of life.

"What is that suppose to mean?", Much replied offended then quickly added: "It was that dress she was wearing …"

Thornton was sitting back looking at them, not quite sure what to make of it but in this instance he replied … "Yes … the master made her pick new dresses …"

"Ah … just when you thought me and Gisborne would never agree on something …", Robin said smiling and looking at Isabelle as she and Gisborne walked through the yard making their way, he suspected, towards the apple cart.

"But why did she say she was just passing through Nottingham?", he said all of a sudden …

Much looked at him in amazement … "Because she was laying!", he replied enraged … "I mean, look at her!", he pointed, "She's holding his arm, she's smiling. She's lasted three months!", Much underlined the last bit as the ultimate piece of evidence. "She must be just as evil as him", he concluded.

"Oh, no …", Thornton replied, "the mistress is very kind". This made the two men turn around and look at him with great interest. "She is, Robin. She really is …", Thornton assured him. "Why … she even gives food, clothes and some money to the girls in the kitchen and the people that work around the house."

"And Gisborne allows this?", Robin asked already sure of the answer.

"No .. of course not … the master doesn't know. Why, one time he caught her in the kitchen cooking …"

"Cooking?", Robin repeated increasingly confused …

"Yes … she likes to cook … she's been doing quite a lot of it …"

"And Gisborne allows this?", Robin repeated the question just because it seemed so unbelievable …

"Well, he didn't like it at first, of course … but then the mistress convinced him … She's got quite a lot of influence when it comes to the master", Thornton had to admit as the three of them turned around to look at the couple.

Guy put his arm around his wife's waist and was obviously very occupied in explaining something to her. She seemed very interested and smiled from time to time making Guy feel, obviously, very much at ease. He grabbed an apple and just when he was about to eat it, Isabelle took it out of his hand, grabbing another one at the same time. It was a large, red apple that she passed over her sleeve in order to clean it after which she brought it close to her mouth, kissed it and finally gave it to him. This brought a rather large smile on Guy's face …

"Well … how about that …", Robin said looking at the scene unfold …

Much how had also been taken aback by the happening, suddnatly recovered … "Yes, yes …", he said quickly, "the perfect image of the loving couple … We have to go!", and started pulling Robin towards the forest.

Robin, finally persuaded by Much, started moving away until he saw that Gisborne was getting ready to leave. He had already put his coat on and was now getting on his horse.

Just as soon as he had left, Isabelle called the children that were still running around the lake and gave each of them two apples from the cart.

"Wait a minute!", Robin said stopping … They were now quite far away from the manor. "Let's think about this for a second … "

"What's there to think about?", Much replied impatiently, "There's a fire waiting for us at camp … there's Marion", he underlined her name … "Master …", he finally said enraged by the fact that by now Robin was not just standing still, but completely concentrated on the manor and was not paying any attention to him, "There's rabbit waiting for us … And if we don't arrive soon those savages are going to eat it! Probably raw …"

"Well .. we have to help her", Robin said already starting to walk back

"But she doesn't want our help …", Much replied with desperation in his voice.

Robin turned around and looked at Much with that intense look in his eyes that he got when he talked about something very important … "How do you know? She's alone … with Gisborne … She's obviously not like him … Look at the things she does for the people of Locksley. We should at least let her know she has support if she needs it …"…

Even though Much was half convinced, he still fought it … "But … master …"

Robin was no longer listening to him and had started to move away …

"But master, the rabbit … They're going to eat my rabbit!", he said and stood still for a moment. Then, in typical fashion, he ran to catch up with Robin.

They slowly made their way back, fallowing Isabelle closely until she made a turn around the manor heading towards the herb garden, that luckily for Robin and Much was unguarded. They saw her speak briefly with one of the soldiers that had come after her. He was soon gone.

She sat in silence looking over the garden for a few moments and then started heading towards the house.

Robin and Much could not let this happen, so they started moving quicker and finally caught up with her.

Robin went up slowly behind her, put his hand over her mouth and turned her around to face him. He smiled and said: "Hello, Daisy Sea!".

She looked flushed and frightened and started looking around, Robin guessed, in search for help.

"Don't be afraid. We're not here to hurt you", he whispered. "Now, if I let my hand down, you promise you won't scream?". She nodded so he released her mouth.

She looked disheveled and quite angry … "What are you doing here? What do you want? I'm not caring money …"

"How about that necklace you have around your neck?", he said smiling cunningly …

She instantly brought both her hands to protect her necklace … "Don't worry, Lady Gisborne", he said smiling, "I'm not here to rob you. I'm just here to talk …" …He released her and extended his arms … "Just to talk .. honest …"

She did not run away. She arranged her dress and hair, brought her arms in front of her and stood very straight …"And what is it that Robin Hood wants to talk to the wife of his enemy about?"

He smiled and looked at her quite concerned. "Why did you lie to me? When you said that you were just passing through Nottingham …."

"Because you were robbing me …", she replied. "I did not know that it was necessary to be honest to people who rob you …"

"Fair enough", said Robin smiling …

"The truth is … I did not trust you enough, then. Now it's a different matter …"

"How so?". Robin was beginning to be interested.

"Well … I've heard of who you are, of everything you're doing for the people around here. I have come to respect you a great deal", she said bowing her head looking rather embarrassed at the admission.

Robin could not help but feel flattered. "Then how is it that you are with someone like Gisborne?", he asked honestly …

"Well", she answered awkwardly, "he's my husband". She looked down while she was rubbing her hands together.

Robin could see that she was not very proud of her situation …"Do you know what he does? Do you know what he is?"

She looked up at him quite distressed. "He has qualities!"

Robin tilted his head back in frustration. "Why does everybody keep saying that?!?" … He put his hands on her shoulders and looked straight into her eyes … "You are married to a monster. He murders and tortures innocent people … People that steal food to survive. He steals other people's lands…"

She struggled to set herself free from his grip … "You are laying!", she said crying …"He's a good man!". Robin laughed back in irony … This made her cry even harder … "Perhaps he is not as brave as you and doesn't stand up to injustice as you but that does not mean he adds to it".

"How can you be so blind?", he asked her grabbing her shoulders once more …

"Because …", she tried to reply …

"He has qualities … I know" …

He let her calm down and then took her hand and looked into her eyes … "I want you to come with me. You'll be gone for just a few hours…There's someone I want you to meet"…

"Why should I?', she answered, obviously still angry … "Why should I trust you?"

"Why have you stood here talking to me and not called for help?", he answered. "Because you know what I am and you know I'm speaking the truth. You may not want to see it but you know it's there."

This seemed to make sense to her because she did not fight the notion any more. Instead, she just asked: "And who are we suppose to see?"

"Someone who also thought Gisborne had qualities", Robin replied and took her hand.

Much who had been standing close by, watching to see if anybodywas coming, joined them as they made their way through the yard and finally outside the village.

Once they were out and in possession of their horses, Robin turned to Much and instructed him: "Stay close to Locksley and keep an eye on things until we come back. If something comes up, try and keep it under control. No one can find out Lady Gisborne", he put a mocking accent on the title, "is missing" …

"But how … am I supposed to … do that?". By the time Much had finished the sentence, Robin had already gotten on his horse taking Isabelle with him and rode of.

"Well … at least he left my horse …"

They had been riding for about half and hour without saying a word. Robin thought it best. He hoped it would make Isabelle a little more comfortable. He felt that even if she had agreed to go with him, she still had doubts about him and the reasons behind his eagerness to help her.

"So where is it that we're going?", she asked all of a sudden …

"To Glasson", he answered simply.

"What's in Glasson that is so important as to make an outlaw take the wife of the man who is hunting him down to see it?"

"You will soon find out …". He hoped this answer would make her stop asking questions. He felt certain that if he were to tell her the truth she would refuse to go. But she needed to know the truth about Gisborne and who better to tell her then Annie.

"So tell me … what are those qualities that Gisborne has?". He asked this because he hoped it would give her something to think about and because he really wanted to know. Marion also spoke of Gisborne's "qualities" when she was to marry him … It still bothered him.

"Well … he knows what he wants and he goes out and gets it. He makes his feelings known. He doesn't sit around and tries to grab your hand from time to time".

This made Robin flinch. He had tried on several occasions to take Marion's hand and she had pulled away. Could she be referring to that? This question gave _him_ something to think about. The rest of the journey was made in silence.

Glasson was not very far away from Nottingham, and it was still somewhat under the Sheriff's influence, although the effects of that influence were not felt as harshly as in Nottingham.

They finally stopped in front of a very humble, yet clean house. "Annie!", Robin banged at the door. "Annie, are you home?".

Annie, finally, opened the door. She looked disheveled and out of breath. It was apparent that she had been working very hard.

"Robin!", she said embracing him. "It's been so long since I've seen you! Come in", she opened the door wider …

"Thank you, Annie! I've brought someone here to see you", Robin replied pointing to Isabelle.

Once inside, Annie invited them to sit down. "So, why should such a fine lady want to see me?", she asked Isabelle.

"You tell me", she replied with a glim in her eyes.

Annie looked puzzled, so finally Robin stepped in.

"I've brought Isabelle here", he said looking at Annie, "because you two have something in common". This left Annie confused … "Isabelle is Gisborne's wife", Robin clarified …

This time when Annie looked at Isabelle there was no trace of confusion, or indeed, of kindness. She looked at her with a mix of pity and resentment. "So …", she said bitterly, "he got married, did he?" …She stood up from her chair and got closer to Isabelle …"Did he tell you about me?" … "Did he tell you", by this time she was crying and screaming at the same time, "about our son?".

The loud noise his mother was producing made the child wake up and start crying himself so Annie went and picked him up to comfort him.

Robin looked at Isabelle and he could see the state of shock the news had left her in. Tears were rolling down her cheeks but she made no sound. Robin put his hand on hers … "I'm sorry you had to find out this way, but you wouldn't have believed it otherwise …"

She flinched as she pulled her hand out of his and looked at him ... "But how can it be?", she said slowly, "How can he have a son?" …

Annie still managed to hear it so she came close to her once more, child in hand …"Oh! You don't believe it, do you? Perhaps you pride yourself on being loved by that murderer!". This made Isabelle look down and sob …Annie was a little appeased by this reaction so she added softness to her voice while she continued. "I know what that's like. He said he loved me", she was now staring into the wall as if she was reliving what she was telling, "He promised that he would marry me and give my son a good home". She paused enough to drag her chair closer to Isabelle, sit down and then put her hand on Isabelle's arm. "Then you know what he did?", she asked. "He took my child, my little Seth", she continued caressing her son, "into the forest and left him there to die".

At hearing this, Isabelle stood up and ran outside crying. Robin fallowed.

"Why did you bring me here?", she sobbed …

"So you could see the truth", he said innocently while he was trying to give her some kind of comfort by holding her hand …

"And what good does it do me?", she asked plainly looking into his eyes. "I'm married to him. There's nothing I can do to change that. At least before this, I could have deluded myself into thinking that he was a good man", she said looking at the house. "But now, after this …", she pointed to it, "there is no room for merciful lies"…

Robin hadn't thought about things like that. He was now starting to feel guilty for bringing her here.

"Oh! God", she said and started walking from side to side. "Can you imagine?", she looked at Robin, "If he was capable of doing this to his own son what he might do to me?".

She was clearly terrified. Robin had to acknowledge that he had made a mistake, at least to himself. This was deffinatly something he would not repeat in the future. In the meanwhile he got closer to her and put his arms around her, in an attempt to calm her.

She escaped from his arms rather quickly but seemed a little calmer when she looked at him with a condemned look in her eyes and said: "Take me home now…".

to be continued …


	7. Chapter 7: A man like me

So … last chapter had Guy getting on his horse and leaving. This chapter picks up from that point on and it's a closer look at this character and his motivations.

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Chapter 7 – A man like me

Guy was slowly loosing his patience when it came to the Sheriff's games. He had had to leave sunny Locksley and a woman with a red apple to come to gloomy Nottingham and sit by the Sheriff's side through another tedious, long meeting with the nobles.

The meetings themselves were pointless exercises. Guy knew that well enough. For all the nobles would agree with the Sheriff on everything and be willing to give him anything he asked for, especially since his little trick of producing a false king. The nobles no longer had the luxury to even plot in secret because of the fear that they would be betrayed.

Even Sir Edward, who had discreetly been the Sheriff's biggest opposition, had now been reduced to a silent, well tamed lamb. He knew well enough that the Sheriff still saw him as the head of the "failed rebellion" and that the only reason he was not dead was because the Sheriff did not have the required proof. Adding his daughter's actions to this and Edward knew that one false move and he'd be done for.

Sir Edward was the only thing that Guy enjoyed from the entire embarrassing event. To see his face turn to wax every time he would cross his gaze with Guy's cold blue look, was enough to calm him whatever his aggravations might have been that day.

Today, however, was a different matter. Even if Sir Edward had been satisfactory afraid of Gisborne, he still felt anxious and aggravated. He knew it was just a matter of time until the Sheriff sent men into Sherwood Forest and that this time he would be left with no choice but to entrust that task to him. Still he was running out of rope until that moment occurred.

Once the meeting was at last over, and the nobles had retired in peace and order like the pets that they were, Guy made his feelings known.

"My lord, Nottingham needs to strike against it's greatest enemy … Robin Hood. Drastic measures must be taken …"

"Oh, Gisborne", the Sheriff replied annoyed, "don't you know how to say anything else? Do you think that everyone is concerned with your personal misfortunes?". Vasey was still attacking with his greatest weapon.

This time Guy did not seem at all distressed at being reminded of his failed marriage to Marian. "My lord, may I remind you that it is your misfortune as much, if not more then mine?". This caught Vasey's attention. "Robin Hood did ruin all your chances of dealing with your enemies … From what I recall", Guy said in a overtly offensive manner …

The Sheriff stopped tending to his nails long enough to look at Gisborne. "And what do you propose we do about it?". He was still annoyed but there was no sarcasm.

"The monthly tribute is going to come into Nottingham in a few days. Is it not?", Guy asked razing his eyebrows.

"Yes ... and what of it?", the Sheriff replied defensively. "I have made the necessary plans. It going to be brought in a simple cart, with mercenaries dressed as peasants in order not to attract attention. They will take the long road around the forest. There is no danger", he concluded sure of himself.

Guy started pacing the room, arms crossed around his chest. "What I'm proposing is that the cart makes it's way through the forest …". He looked at the Sheriff only to find that he was looking back at him as if he were insane. But, still, he continued … "We could spread the word that the monthly tribute is due to arrive …"

"And what purpose will that serve?", Vasey said razing his voice …

Guy stopped and leaned against the table, looking the Sheriff straight in the eye. "There is a lot of gold in that cart, my lord". The Sheriff looked intrigued, so Guy continued … "Enough gold to make Robin Hood and his gang come out of the hole they've crawled into and be less then cautious" ….

The Sheriff smiled as the plan started making sense to him …. Guy couldn't help but think: "I've got you now …", and a half grin bloomed on the left side of his mouth …

* * *

Things had gone very well for Guy of Gisborne that day. He had finally convinced the Sheriff to give him enough men to strike hard against Robin Hood and now he was heading home, looking forward to spending a night of pleasure with his wife. "Maybe a morning, also …", he thought. He had after all to make up for the nights he was going to be away…

It was about this time that it occurred to him that he hadn't slept with any other woman since he had gotten married. Realizing this surprised him. He had planed on being moderately faithful to Marion, but he had not expected this kind of behavior out of him.

When he thought about it better, he noted that this change in him might be due to the fact that his wife's behavior would change very often. It seemed to him that he was not living with one woman but two … and sometimes even three. She would be playful and seductive sometimes, childish and shy other times. Guy did not know what to make of it, but he reasoned that this alternation was occurring because she had not yet adjusted to being married. She still held out some of her maiden defenses…

But he was planning on breaking down those defenses and make her completely his wife. He had spent so many years without anything of importance, such as land or family, that now he felt the acute urge to convert everything he had in his property, so he would be sure that they could never be taken away from him.

When Robin Hood had returned from the Holy Land and he had claimed Locksley, the loss physically hurt, as Guy could recall all too well.

Even now that he was secure in his possession of the land, even now that he had dispossessed Robin of everything including his name, he still did not feel at home in Locksley. He desperately wanted it, he liked people calling him "master" but somewhere deep down he knew that all he had did not really belong to him and that the people around him knew it also … As much as he wanted to think of Locksley as the new Gisborne, he could not. This had been the reason why he never changed the name … He knew he couldn't … not until Robin Hood would be dead.

He had thought the same of Marion. When she left him at the altar and run away with Hood, it had deeply pained him and it hadn't been just his pride, Guy knew that. But he had suspected the attachment between Marion and Robin Hood long before that. He was no fool. He had felt how she had rejected all of his attempts of intimacy even after she had publicly accepted to marry him. He knew that Marion would never truly belong to him until Robin Hood would be dead ….

But Isabelle … Oh! She did belong to him. There was nothing there to stand between him and her. His passion for her was not only due to the way she had treated him, although that had helped greatly.

Still, women had loved him before … Most often when he thought about this his mind would stop briefly on the image of Annie. She had loved him and he had enjoyed her well enough. But he could have never loved her, let alone marry her. She did not have the education, the lineage or breeding that he considered essential in anyone that would bare the Gisborne name.

Isabelle, on the other hand, did possess all those things. She had the grace and confidence of a lady but she still managed to obey and please him with the greatest ease and serenity. She did not reject him nor did she question his decisions. And still, through the complete lack of opposition she had not managed to bore him. He was still very much interested in her. He constantly felt that there was more to discover about his wife.

He liked this, since it gave him the sensation of hunting down a prized animal but at the same time it unsettled him somewhat. If he did not know her completely how could he control her? How could he be sure of her?

He had managed to keep her away from Nottingham and the world in general, given that she had not really left Locksley since they had gotten married, even if the Sheriff had asked about her on a number of occasions. The thought of Isabelle meeting the Sheriff again did not sit well with him. He did not like when he called her "his dove". He knew the Sheriff's aversion to women but still his attentions towards his wife did not sit well with him at all.

But it was more then that. He feared that if she was to form a larger circle of acquaintances she would undoubtedly, at some point, stumble across a piece of information about him that might shock her and make her think less of him.

He could not believe that anyone as pure as Isabelle could ever love him if she knew the hole truth about him. She knew bits and pieces. There was no avoiding that. But still the details escaped her and he wanted to keep it that way for as long as possible. He did not want the expression in her eyes when looking at him to change.

He was finally approaching Locksley when he saw some movement near one of the entrances into the forest. He looked closer only to discover that it was his wife. She was standing in front of a large tree and from time to time paced around. She seemed rather agitated and he soon realized she was talking to someone. Who he could not tell. The tree offered enough shelter but he thought he could make out a shadow and it seemed to him to be that of a man.

"A man?", he said out loud. "And Isabelle is talking to him". There was no mistaking it. She looked flushed and angry. She was moving her arms in an agitated manner trying to convince who ever it was of something.

Guy felt he was going crazy. To have a man so close to his wife with him not knowing about it was enough to send him in a state of rage he had not experienced in a very long time. He speed up his horse ready to tear both of them apart.

to be continued ...

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Author's note: … my first cliffhanger … yay!!!! … Sorry, I know what this might be doing to you, faithful readers but rest assured chapter 8 is in the process of being written as we speak! 


	8. Chapter 8: The change

Ok …sorry for not posting earlier, but you know sometimes real life gets in the way of my creative process … So there it is: chapter 8 … I shall have to warn you: it is slightly naughty which is why I'm going to rate it a **T.**

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Chapter 8 – The change

Guy reached the spot where his wife was standing very quickly. He got of his horse at some considerable distance from her and started walking very slowly behind her, so he would not tip either her nor her companion that he was coming.

Even if the blood had already started boiling in his veins, he kept a steel surface and apparent calm, as he always did before a confrontation. He walked very slowly behind her until he could almost smell her … and then he grabbed her arm violently and turned her around to face him.

She turned to him with a face of shock and flinched as his grip on her tightened…

"Where is he, Isabelle?". His voice was low and menacing and his eyes were burning. He was holding her so tight that he could break any of her bones at will.

She looked scared and confused. Her face had become a mirror of the pain he was causing her … "I don't know what you mean, my lord", she finally said through the gasps of pain …

"Don't lie to me!", he said in the same voice pulling her upwards and grabbing her face with one of his hands … "Where is he?". He underlined every word …

"Please, my lord. You're hurting me", she pleaded as tears started falling from her eyes. "There is none here but me" …

This denial only fuelled him more. She had not only betrayed him, but she didn't even have the courage to tell the truth when it was so obvious. "You are lying", he said through his teeth lowering his face towards her.

"I am not lying!", she screamed turning her face to the side. She could hardly speak because of the convulsions her crying was causing her.

He grabbed her face once more so he could look straight into her eyes. He lowered his voice to almost a whisper – a whisper the convicts in Nottingham prison often called "the whisper of death" : "Do you know who I am, Isabelle?", he asked caressing her face. He usually did this as an act of tenderness, but now with his gloves on, it felt cold and terrifying. "Do you know what happens to people who betray me?".

She was looking at him with terror. He knew that look well. She was unable to speak. She only gasped from time to time. Her body immobile because of the pain his grip was inflicting. The tears frozen on her face. Her eyes opened wide ….

"Tell me where he is and maybe I will show mercy …", he continued as his eyes stared her down like a hunted animal.

She opened her mouth to speak but only a small scream came out. This opened the way for fresh tears to roll out as she gasped for air …

This did not make him show mercy. It only aggravated him more. She was putting on a great show and she was trying to impress him with cheap theatrics. …"Speak!", he commanded razing his voice slightly and causing her to flinch at the sudden break of silence …

"There …", her voice was trembling …"There is no one here …', she finally managed to say in a voice contorted by the breathing attack she was experiencing …

This caused him to throw his head back in rage and rise his hand ready to strike her …

"Look for yourself!", she screamed trying to hide her face …"There are no footprints here but mine!". She started crying violently and loudly ….

He pushed her to the side still holding one of her arms and looked at the ground behind her, in the places he estimated the man might have been standing ….

His grip slowly lessened and he finally released her … It was true. There were no marks … none that could have been made by a man anyway and more importantly there were no horse marks, either … For a man to arrive here and to disappear so quickly he surely had to have a horse … but there were no marks.

He turned towards her. She was carefully rubbing her arms to shake off the pain he had caused her. Her face was transformed into a mass of tears. She looked disheveled and scared out of her mind. What had he done?

Even if the feelings of shame were slowly overwhelming him, he was still suspicious. "Then who were you talking to?", he said in an angry voice getting closer to her.

She stepped back. She clearly could not be far enough from him at that particular moment. "To no one!", she screamed out in desperation. She took a breath and closed her eyes to try to calm herself …and then she continued: "I was planning on writing a letter to my father", she said in a calm, cold voice looking away from him. "He has very specific rules when it comes to writing. I wanted to see if I remembered them …".

He looked at her as she was standing but a few steps away from him. She was avoiding to look at him. She had her arms wrapped around herself and gasped from time to time. She seemed so distant.

He was slowly starting to realize what he had done but still he could not shake off his doubts. After all Marion had lied to him over and over again. He had been too lenient to her. He did not want to make the same mistake with Isabelle. "And you couldn't do that in your room or in the yard at Locksley?", he asked in a slightly less commanding manner.

She turned her face towards him. Her eyes were now burning him. She spoke in anger: "I am not a caged animal, my lord", she began lifting her head high in an imposing manner that Guy had never seen in her. "I wanted to be away from the servants and the soldiers". Her eyes turned even colder as she continued … "If I have caused offence, you will have to excuse me. I knew you deprived people of their freedom in Nottingham prison. I did not think that you applied the same treatment to your wife."

She did not remove her eyes from him as he slowly bowed his head. He felt her words and gaze as slaps across the face. It had never occurred to him that she might want to leave Locksley. He tried to motivate his behavior. He came closer to her. This time she did not move away. "Isabelle…", his voice was now familiar and calm, "I have many enemies. People that might hurt you in order to get to me. That is why there are soldiers at Locksley … and that is why you should not leave without an escort …".

She looked up at him with the same cold eyes …His anger might have subsided but hers was still very much there … "Yes …", she said slowly, "I'm becoming aware of just how many dangers there are around me at Locksley". Then she turned away from him.

He looked at her with shire pain. He got the full meaning of her words. He was the danger she was becoming aware of.

He had to mend this mess somehow. He approached her slowly and spoke in a low voice filled with repent: "I apologize … I don't know what came over me …", he tried explaining and grabbed her arm. This time it was a soft, tender touch and he wanted desperately to hold her and prove that she shouldn't be afraid of him.

She flinched as his touch was causing her pain, and she quickly pulled her arm away. She clearly did not want him near her.

"Isabelle …", he said pained by her rejection, "you have to understand how it looked. You were here alone and I thought I saw a man…". She did not move. "You have to imagine how it looked …". He straightened his posture and crossed his arms awaiting her response.

She slowly turned towards him. "It a forest, my lord", she said pointing around. "It filled with trees, branches, bushes …", she continued mockingly making him fell increasingly uncomfortable … "either of which can cause shadows that look like anything from a bull to a man …" … "But let me ask you this …". She now came closer to him …"Have I ever given you any reason to doubt me?", she asked looking straight in his eyes …

She was now so close to him that he could smell her scent. It was a combination of the fresh flowers she had placed around the house and the sun that seem to surround her every time she went out.

Guy looked at her. Her hair was loose around her shoulders. Her eyes sparkled more then usual. He guessed that was due to the tears she had shade earlier. She looked at him with a daring gaze and fire that he had never seen in her before. She was holding her chin up and her mouth was shut tight. She looked angry and ready to attack.

Guy could barley control himself and not take her right then and there. The thought of her hair spread across the grass almost made him cry out. But he controlled himself. She was quite angry and obviously not in the same disposition as him. So this time it was him that had to take a few steps back. "No", he finally admitted. "You have given me no reason …".

She seemed satisfied. She turned around and started walking.

He was confused … "Where are you going ?", he asked still standing in the same place.

"Back to Locksley …", she said without turning to look at him. "It's nearly dinner time".

He started walking until he finally caught up with her and soon found his horse.

"Let's take the horse", he suggested extending his hand.

She looked at his hand and then at him, then turned around. "Thank you. I rather walk back …".

Guy could see that she was still very angry, so he thought it best to let her have her way. He grabbed his horse and started walking besides her. Not another word was spoken.

Dinner was slowly becoming a reminder of their walk back to Locksley. There were no words as Isabelle ate and started at her plate and Guy drank wine and looked at her. He was desperately trying to find something to talk about. He had to get her out of this silent mode she was inflicting upon him.

He finally remembered … "I have to go away tomorrow". This definitely caught her attention as she looked up and suddenly seemed very distressed upon hearing the news.

This pleased him. "Just for a few days", he added slowly.

She dropped her eyes back at her plate but it seemed that she had lost her appetite. "Where are you going?", she finally asked still looking at her food.

"I have to accompany a cart filled with taxes for the Sheriff", he informed her. Then added quickly, as if it was not of great importance: "We will return through Sherwood Forest …".

This caused her to drop her fork and look up at him. "Sherwood Forest?", she repeated only to see him nod back. "You're going after Robin Hood?"…

Guy was sure that even if she had formulated her words into a question, it was more of a statement. He couldn't help but be surprised to find how clever his wife was. She saw right through his story about the taxes to the real reason of his enterprise… "I'm not going after Robin Hood", he said sheepishly sipping his wine … "But if he were to cross my path …" … He extended his arms as if to say who knows what will happen and smiled wolfishly.

He could see that she wanted to say something else but for some reason she controlled herself. She focused her attention once more on the food and managed to finish everything she had on her plate, after which she excused herself and went up to her room.

Guy decided to give her a few minutes. He knew that when he would finally go up he could not stop himself from having her and he wanted to give her a chance to calm down.

He finished his wine and then he went to talk to his men. He had brought Huntington back with him from Nottingham. He was going to be in charge in Guy's absence.

He did not trust any of the other men with this task but Huntington had proven himself. He had saved Guy's life and it the fallowing weeks he had been a reliable and efficient soldier, and he wanted someone like that taking care of his house.

After announcing to his men that they were leaving the fallowing day, Guy finally made his way up the stairs and into his bedchamber.

He found his wife in bed covered from head to toe with the sheet. He had grown costumed to find her brushing her hair in front of the mirror. No matter how late he would arrive she would wait and do it in his presence.

Clearly he did not deserve such luxuries tonight.

He started walking slowly towards the bed. He laid down beside her and whispered in her ear: "What have you got under there?", and pointed to the sheet with his eyes.

She looked at him and raised her shoulders … "Nothing", she answered.

That brought a cunning smile on his face as he placed his hand on the sheet … "That sounds very promising …". And with that, he pulled the sheet off with one swift move.

She was wearing a green translucid shift that made him hold his breath for second.

She tried covering her chest but he pushed her hands away … "No … I want to see you …"

She looked flushed … "Put out the candles … Please …"

He moved his head in disagreement and put his hand on her belly … "You know … I have seen everything before so don't worry yourself about that …".

As she was preparing to object again he came closer to her and kissed her. His hands started moving across her skin, pressing from time to time, making her body curl up under his touch and in doing so lifting the shift up.

He finally lifted her shift over her head and removed his hand to look at her. Nude and untainted. She was beautiful …

Her breathing had increased considerably and she kept her eyes closed.

He waited patiently until the absence of his hand led the way to shivers and she finally opened her eyes. She turned her head towards him and smiled. Soon enough her whole body joined it and she cuddled against his fully clothed body. The feel of metal and leather against her naked body made her shiver. She looked up at him only to find he was amused. "Haven't you forgotten something?", he asked pointing to his clothes.

She smiled in mischief and started to slowly undress and kiss him softly.

By the time she had finished, the kisses had become urgent and rough.

All of a sudden, she stopped kissing him and looked up all flushed. "My lord," she said softly, "do you think you can do something for me if I ask you?".

He looked back at her, frowning. "What is it?", he said kissing her neck softly.

"Don't go to Sherwood Forest tomorrow …".

This put an end to his kisses and he pulled back … "What do you mean by that?"

"Don't go after Robin Hood", she answered in the same simple manner …

This angered him as he stood up and looked at her closely … "Why?", he asked and with suspicion blooming he pulled her closer to him … "What is he to you?".

She pulled her arm back in pain and looked at him in anger … He pulled away a little remembering what he had done that same afternoon … "He is nothing to me", she answered softly … "I don't even know him …"

"Then what is it?". He was beginning to lose his patience …

"Well … it occurs to me ", she said lifting her head off the pillow and looking straight at him, "that Lady Marion on the other hand might be something to you, my lord"…

Hearing Marion's name caused Guy to turn around and drop on his pillow. He was now starring into the ceiling. "Marion is no concern of yours", he said in a brutal, rough voice.

"But what people are going to say does concern me", Isabelle lashed back. Guy gave her a violent look which put an end to her resolve. Still she continued: "You do know what they're going to say, don't you?", she said softly. "They're going to say that you went into the forest looking for her" …"Because you still love her", she added in a hurt whisper …

This caused Guy to grab her roughly, by the waist this time, careful not to cause her pain and place her on top of him. In this position she was exposed to him which made her feel very uncomfortable.

He brought her face close to his by putting his hand on the back of her head. "Isabelle …". He spoke slowly but his eyes were cold. "This is beginning to sound bitterly of blackmail" … She seemed offended by the suggestion but he continued. "Has my angel turned to poison?", he asked drawing out the outline of her lips with his fingers …As she failed to respond, he raised his eyebrows: "Hmmm?".

She looked at him with hurt and offence … "No, my lord", she said resigned, "it was a simple request " and looked away .

He pulled her face back towards him … "Then it is a request I can not grant you, my lady", he concluded with a commanding tone …

She nodded quickly. Her eyes were sad and she sat a few second looking into his face as if she wanted to remember it forever. Then she leaned towards him and started kissing him almost desperately.

He thought he had seen tears in her eyes but he chased that thought away as he felt her skin against his and started falling.

The fallowing morning, Guy found himself, once more, sited in front of his wife and having breakfast. He had grown a costumed to look at her and find her wearing the necklace he had given her and that she had never removed from that day. It had become a bound between them … a bound even stronger then their wedding ring for it had been a gift of the heart.

But today there was no necklace. It had been replaced by a small, leather collar.

* * *

Author's note: Hope you've liked it … and I'm going to leave you with something to think about. As you probably suspect, there was a man talking to Isabelle but I am going to say that it wasn't Robin or a bush… so who could he be?!? Anyway ... just wanted to let you know that the big moment of truth is closing in …just a few chapters more and we'll finally find out what the deal is with Isabelle … 


	9. Chapter 9: Stay!

OH! Finally managed to finish chapter nine .. It took a while but here it is …

Chapter 9 – Stay!

The more Guy looked at his wife that morning, the more he felt offended and angry.

It was not only that she had removed the necklace, which had become his ultimate proof that he could make a woman like Isabelle fall in love with him. This was true, of course. Every day he would see it and know that what he had now was real and that it was his. After he had bought it, seeing it on his wife's neck he thought the rubies suited her so well. It brought light to her eyes and it went well with the colors in her hair. His wife was lovely, he thought often. Quite possibly the most beautiful woman in Nottinghamshire… More so then Marian, that was obvious … And the necklace not only complemented her beauty but it was a sign that she had given her heart away.

But today the necklace was not there anymore. And the leather collar that had replaced it pained Guy deeply. It was simple and black and it held her neck tightly under it's grip. It reminded Guy of a dog collar more then anything. And it was starring back almost saying: "She has an owner" … And the true problem was that Guy knew it wasn't him.

He tried to restrain himself and not say anything. His behavior the day before did not leave space for accusations now … But every time he looked at her, the collar faced him back and he felt it as slaps across the face. It was mocking him. … Until he could not bare it anymore and spoke:

"You did not like it after all", he said in a hurt voice pointing to her neck with his eyes then quickly lowering his head down to his plate.

She looked up at him, slightly surprised as if he had brought her back from some dream … "What do you mean, my lord?", she asked innocently …

This aggravated Guy even more for he was sure she knew exactly what he meant … "Your necklace …', he said this time looking into her eyes.

"Of course I do, my lord", she said quickly … "What makes you think that I don't?" she continued with a cunning smile.

It was all Guy could do not to get up and wipe that smile off her face. He tightened his grip on his fork and spoke through his teeth:

"You are not wearing it …"

"I felt it was time for a change …", she replied mysteriously.

Even if to anyone else present her response might have seemed to indicate a simple change of necklaces, Guy knew it actually meant much more. And the implications even if still uncertain did not leave him in a state of ease.

But there was no time to sort this problem properly. He was due to leave in a few hours and that meant there were still quite a great number of things that needed his attention straight away. He picked up his napkin, wiped his mouth and threw it back on the table in aggravation. He then stood up from the table and said: "I have to leave you now, my lady. There are many things I have to attend to before I leave ". He underlined the last two words because he knew how the idea of him leaving had troubled her the night before and he hoped for some kind of response: hurt, anger … anything would do.

Instead, she just bowed her head slightly and continued eating without even as much as eye contact. As if his departure was nothing to her anymore.

He felt silly standing there by the table so he quickly turned around and walked out of the room.

The easiest way to know that the master was coming was by hearing his footsteps through the house. The sound of metal and leather against the ground would be the surest indication that he was coming your way.

The people of Locksley knew this sound well and more often then not it brought shivers down their spines, for it seldom brought good news.

Today was no different. Guy walked through the hallways with giant steps, pressing firmly on the ground. He was angry but most of all he was anxious. He had to leave Locksley as soon as possible. He wanted to be out on the road and closer to achieving his plan. This time he would hit Robin Hood as hard as he possibly could.

The thought of Hood and his gang laughing at his failed marriage to Marian … the thought of Hood priding himself on being the true receiver of Marian's love had been often contemplated by Gisborne in the lonely six months before his marriage to Isabelle …and no amount of wine or women had been able to stop him from dwelling on it … until there was her …

But now walking through the hallway a quite different thought was being contemplated … and that was the sweet taste of revenge. It was going to be his. He had earned it and now he was going to collect it, one way or another.

The first recipients of the sound Gisborne's boots were producing were his soldiers and it was soon fallowed by him walking into the room with no ceremonies.

Knowing their commander's impatient nature, the men were already in gear and ready to leave whenever he wished it.

He stood up, towering his men with his arms across his chest and a look that were all proving he meant business:

"Right …", he began decisively … "we will go today to escort taxes for the Sheriff. On our way back we will hunt down Robin Hood". He looked around to make sure everyone was getting the messages … "There will be no room for error. Do you understand?" …The men nodded so Guy turned around and headed for the door … Before leaving, he turned his head slightly: "Huntington", he addressed the lieutenant over the shoulder ... The man quickly came forward. "Come with me …and bring ten of your best men", he added and then left the room, fallowed closely by the lieutenant.

Guy steps quickened as he made his way to the yard in front of the manor … There he stopped briefly and faced Huntington: "You will stay here with your men", he informed him, "and keep guard over my house".

"Yes, sir", the lieutenant replied.

Huntington was a man of few words. This sat very well with Guy. After all he did not want to make interesting conversation. He wanted a man of action… "We will go and check on the barns together .. to how much is in each one and that everything is in order", Guy continued. Huntington nodded.

Guy approached him and leaned over in a private yet menacing manner … "If anything goes missing while I am away, I will hold you responsible".

Huntington once again nodded, only this time he did so in a much less confident way.

Guy started walking away from his lieutenant and towards the barn but stopped midway, as if he had remembered something. He came closer to Huntington once more. "While I am away, Lady Gisborne is not to leave Locksley under any circumstances …"

Huntington was unsure of the order: "Sir?"

Guy continued as if he had not noticed the man's confusion … "She will have the freedom of the Locksley lands, of course, but she is not to go over it's borders … I'm in charging you with this", he added this in such a manner that Huntington might realize that this was without a doubt one of his most important tasks.

Then realizing that this order might give way to a commanding attitude towards his wife, Guy continued: "Just to make it perfectly clear … She is my wife. You have to obey her in anything that she might order you … with the exception of this. And try to keep your vigilance over her as discreet as possible … She is not a prisoner … She must be treated with respect."

Huntington once again nodded … "Yes, sir."

Guy spent another three seconds looking down on his lieutenant just to make sure that he understood the order and then turned away and left.

Guy spent the next hour checking on the supplies in the barn, making sure that everything was in order and that Huntington knew the points in which he should place his men.

But the next two inspections he was going to do alone. First he went to the room in which he kept his fortune. He wanted to see if everything was in order which it was so he locked the door and placed the key in his pocket. He was not going to leave at home. After all the estate had enough supplies to last them until he came back and he wanted to avoid any temptation on the part of his soldiers. You could never be too careful.

Then he made his way to the cellar, where he kept his most prized possession. He made his way down the stairs and to the locked door that was keeping it safe. He reached for the key which he kept in the same pocket and was close to opening it when he heard the steps of the stairs creaking under the weight of someone.

He quickly turned around and put his hand on his waist, over his sword, ready to pull it out. His face soon rid itself of the determination that had overcame it just moments earlier and a surprised, suspicious look took its place: "What are you doing here?"

Isabelle sat midway on the staircase, looking awkward … "I was coming to check on the … on the …". She struggled to find the words as he approached her slowly and started climbing the steps, getting ever closer to her.

"The what?", he asked in a whisper holding his mouth next to her ear, so that his breath would gently and lightly touch her neck. She shivered under his closeness and flushed instantly. This was the reason he did it. He loved the predatory sensation that this way of unsettling her caused in him. But now there was something else. He did not like anyone in the cellar, who had no place there. Thornton and one of the kitchen maids were the only ones authorized to go in and take whatever they needed for the running of the house.

"To check to see if there was enough flour and sugar left", she finally said.

"These kind of tasks I have entrusted to Thornton and Mary …", he said in a slightly rough voice pulling away from her.

"Yes, they had told me that", she replied looking into the ground, "but I thought it best to tend to such matters myself".

"How so?", he asked intrigued and a little angry that she had disobeyed his orders.

"I am the lady of the house", she said looking up at him. "It is my duty to make sure that I know exactly what is going on at all times … that includes provisions". "At least this is what I did at my father's house" …."But,", she added in a hurt voice, "if you do not trust me with these tasks then I will stop", and turned around to walk out of the cellar.

Guy grabbed her hand softly and brought her back to him. He reached for her face and caressed her tenderly: "Of course, I trust you, my lady …", he said with honesty in his eyes. "I apologize for my lack of consideration towards your duties as lady of the house". He grabbed her waist and pulled her closer to him in a sweet embrace: "You see … I have been alone a long time and some of the details of married life still escape me", he said with a wolfish smile on his face … "But I hope that you can forgive me these lapses …". With that he grabbed one of her hair locks and started entangling it around his finger and dropped his head down and kissed her.

It was a soft, gentle kiss, as he tenderly covered her mouth with his and lightly touched her lips over and over again.

She grabbed his coat tightly and kissed him back almost desperately, wanting to drink him all in as if there was no tomorrow …

"Whoa!", he finally said. "Slowed down, Isabelle. The cellar, I can assure you is not the most comfortable place for such behavior but if you continue in that way I shall have to prove it to you", he concluded with his usual half grin and kissed her softly on the nose, this way putting an end to the erotic turn that their brief meeting had taken. It was a shame, for he was going to be away for several days. Days in which he was sure he would miss the smell of her skin and the touch of her hair terribly. But, he reassured himself, he was going to make up for it when he came back.

He grabbed her hand and they both walked out of the cellar which he closed tightly, after which they made their way to the courtyard.

The yard looked agitated. There were soldiers everywhere, grabbing their weapons, arranging their horses. The people of Locksley had stopped from their daily chorus to look at the sight before them. Everyone knew that the soldiers, headed by Gisborne would go to intercept the taxes for the Sheriff. Guy had made sure of it. He was certain that one of them would spread the word far enough to reach Hood's ears. And this time there was no Marian to interfere and spill the truth about his planes to the outlaws.

He walked out of the manor and started making his way to his horse which had been already prepared, all the time holding his wife's hand. "That is Huntington", he said pointing to the lieutenant who was busy talking to some of his men on one side of the yard. "He will stay on and offer you protection while I am away."

Isabelle's face turned to wax but she quickly composed herself. "He must be trust worthy, my lord. For you to leave him in such a position", she said with suspicion in his voice.

"He has proven himself to me", Guy said quickly, grabbing his horse and in doing so letting go of her hand.

She quickly grabbed it back and turned him around to face her. Something was clearly bothering her. "Do you trust him completely, my lord?"

"Yes", he replied confused and angry that she was questioning his judgment and delaying his departure. The truth was that his mind was not in Locksley since the moment he came out of the house. It had already started to check the details of his attack . "Why do you ask?". He forced himself to show interest.

She did not answer his question … Instead she continued: "Do you trust him with your wife?"

This made Guy stand up in a rigid manner and give her one of his cold, blue looks. "Is there any reason why I shouldn't?", he asked menacingly.

His look and his distant way of talking to her, made Isabelle pull away slightly from him, conceal her worries and simply say: "Of course not, my lord. I was just concerned about his character."

Guy took this as a sign of her fear of being alone, so he put his hand on her face and said: "Do not worry yourself, my lady. Huntington knows his place. He is here to take care of your security and that of my house …". "And besides", he added in a cheerful way, "I will not be gone for long … just four days". He smiled at her and brought her chin up so she would look in his eyes.

He was looking into her eyes expecting a smile of serenity from her. She did not feel serene but had no other choice but to give him what he wanted.

This made him contented and he removed his and from her face.

"I wish you a safe return, my lord", she said with a tight smile, taking a small bow and then quickly turned around and made her way towards the house, and in doing so hiding the tears that she could no longer repress from him.

Guy was disappointed. He had expected a slightly tenderer good-bye. Perhaps a kiss. What she had given him felt more as a separation.

But it was not important now. He had more important things to think about as he made his way out of Locksley with his men and in pursuit of the revenge that his blood thirsty heart was demanding.

* * *

Author's note: So … only one chapter is left until the end of this first part of my story. Hope you've liked it so far because in the second part it's going to take some drastic turns. 


	10. Chapter 10: Night falls

Chapter 10 – Night falls

It was late in the afternoon as the soldier formation was making its way back to Nottingham, after being away for four days. Their clothes were dusty , their feet tired and their bellies empty after a long day's walk. But they were finally making their way home and it was that thought that was giving them the strength to keep going.

Some of them were injured, but none were serious. Just some scratches and bruises, proving that their amour had been effective enough.

Guy of Gisborne was heading this procession back from where they had left four days ago and the look on his face was unmistakable: shire triumph. He had achieved what he had wanted all this time and now he had the prizes to prove it.

He was returning with the Sheriff's gold intact, but most importantly his plan had worked just as he had thought.

Four days earlier he had left Locksley with his personal escort, making sure that everyone knew that he was going to intercept the Sheriff's taxes and bring them back to Nottingham. The rumor of easy money had reached the outlaws, just as he had suspected, and they came out of their hiding place and face to face with Gisborne. The ten men Guy had left Locksley with did not, of course, represent a threat for Hood and his gang. But what they did not know was that along the way Guy picked up not only the gold but also thirty soldiers that he had sent ahead without anyone knowing it.

The outlaws were not prepared for that kind of manpower and they were easily handled. Two of them, Guy estimated, had been seriously injured. Still they managed to run back into the woods liking their wounds … but what annoyed Gisborne the most was that Hood had managed to escape without so much as a scratch. He would have liked to think of him bleeding to death in some God forsaken cave … Still that was not important. For he had the most important thing … The only thing that would enable him to hurt Hood any time he wished it … and the only thing that would wash clean his wounded pride in front of everyone … Oh, yes! … He had Marian.

She had been the true reason behind his enterprise, he had to admit as much to himself. What she had done, the way she manipulated him, making him out to be ridiculed by everyone could not be forgiven. There had been a time in which he had thought they were friends, but she betrayed him and that was not something that Gisborne would ever forgive nor forget, so now he would be merciless.

In the months fallowing his failed marriage he had thought about her a great deal. He had thought about how chocking her to death would feel like. Feeling her neck under his hands, looking into her eyes filled with terror while he was draining the life out of them … He had then gone over every possible torture technique he knew and wondered how it would feel to apply them on her body….

Now that he had her under his possession, no such thoughts were going through his mind. He realized that in those moments he had been blinded by anger and pain caused by her rejection. Now those feelings were not there anymore for the simple reason that he did not need her as he had all those months ago. He did not need her love to feel whole. He did not need her pure heart to wash away his sins.

So now he was able to think about the entire matter objectively and he came to the conclusion that Marian was far too important to kill. She would serve as a most effective tool, if handled and controlled properly. She came from one of the most important families in England, after all and there was the most important thing … she could be used very successfully against Robin Hood whenever the situation required it.

Without doubt, Marian was far more useful alive then dead, especially now that she had been striped of her power and influence.

He looked back at her. He had given her a horse and tighed her hands tightly behind her. He did not want her in a cage . It would be degrading for a woman of her position but most importantly, having her on the horse, looking disheveled and dirty (from all those moths spent in the forest, no doubt) would make for a much more interesting and humiliating public spectacle.

His gaze finally intersected with hers. She still had the same proud look on her face, but this time there was no softness to it, as it had been before their wedding. That softness that had made him think she might once grow to love him. He was glad it was gone. It meant that she knew where they stood and that this time he would not be fooled by her deceiving attentions.

He signaled the correct path to fallow to his sergeant. They were going to stop at Knighton Hall first. He had big plans for Marian.

The manor at Knighton Hall had been striped clean of anything and anyone that Marian could trust. The servants had been replaced by a few people that Guy trusted completely, bars had been placed on every window, new locks at every door.

Marian looked around the hall of her home and realized that it had been converted in a large and slightly more comfortable prison cell. There was no escape. None that she could immediately see, but she would never stop looking until she found it.

Guy watched her rubbing her wrists that were obviously in pain after being tighed for so long. She looked around the house with a sensation of surprise and terror, as she slowly realized that this was to be her home. He was sure that she was thinking of possible ways of escape. He had even left clues for her that would ultimately lead to dead ends. He did this so he could keep her occupied and to slowly rid her of her hopes, until she realized that there was no escape. He wanted her converted into a living corps.

He saw how she struggled against asking him what his intentions with her were, but he was going to wait until she would. He wanted her completely submitted. He looked as she moved from one side of the room to the other, as if she was a caged animal … unable to sit down.

Guy dragged one of the chairs from the hall and sat down near the fire stretching his legs and continued looking at her. He was enjoying himself.

All of a sudden as if she had remembered something she stopped in the middle of the room, and for the first time since they had walked into the house looked at him.

Guy knew why she had stopped and he knew what she wanted to ask him. She had realized the most important thing that was missing. She still did not speak but her eyes were slowly filling with doubt and fear. Guy drank it all in. He looked at that face that had seemed so beautiful to him once and he wondered if he ever truly loved her. If he had, wouldn't he be more inclined to show mercy now?

But he felt no mercy …He was mostly starting to lose his patience. He wanted to get this over with and go home. There was so much waiting for him there. Something that Marian could never give him.

Marian could bare the uncertainty no longer, so she finally spoke in desperation:

"Where is my father? What have you done with him?"

She waited for a response, but it did not come. Instead she saw Guy's mouth twist in a half grin that seemed to indicate the worst … He then turned his face from her and starred meditatively at his boots.

"If you've done anything to him …", she said in an uncertain voice.

"You'll what?", Guy replied giving her an implacable, cold look.

This silenced her momentarily.

It was time for Guy to lay down the ground rules, so he raised from his chair suddenly and came closer to her. He had the satisfaction of seeing her flinch back in fear.

"Your father is going to live in Nottingham from now on", he replied smiling and leaning against one of the pillars.

Marian let out a sound of relief. "At least he is not dead", she thought. But the real question was why … why wasn't he dead? Why wasn't she dead, for that matter?

"Has my father committed any crime?", she asked. Pride and confidence back in her voice.

"You know better then to ask me that, Marian", Guy replied looking at her menacingly.

"You have no proof of any wrong doing on my father's part", Marian continued trying to sustain Guy's cold look that was managing to scare her out of her mind. She clutched her hand into the table behind her for support.

"I do not need proof", Guy responded calmly. He looked at her almost amused. Did she think that he hadn't thought about everything before making his move? And besides who was there to tell him otherwise? King Richard? … He was in the Holly Land. The problems of some lord from a small region were of no interest to him.

"You can not keep my father a prisoner. It is against the law", Marian persisted.

The mention of the law element made Guy burst out in laughter. It was a loud, shaking sound that brought shivers down Marian's back … "Please Marian … don't act as a child. At your age it is hardly appropriate", Guy finally said … "Besides,", he continued "your father is not a prisoner. He is a guest of the Sheriff". The mention of Vasey made Marian look away. "You know how fond he is of your father", Guy concluded reminding Marian of his father's relationship with the Sheriff.

She was now starting to understand. Her father's life was in her hands. She did not know what it was exactly she had to do to keep him alive but she had a horrible feeling she was about to find out. She decided that it was probably better to use a different approach. To try and soften Gisborne's resolve. He had, after all, been in love with her once. She had managed to have some kind of influence over him in the past.

"Sir Guy …", she began in a slightly softer voice forcing herself to get closer to him even if now, as always, every bone in her body was rejecting him.

"Don't Sir Guy me!", he replied raising his voice slightly and making her stop midway. He came closer to her and looked at her carefully. She was alone, frightened and desperate.. He could do anything he wanted to her. And he would. …She was his tool now and he was going to use it as best he could. "Let's speak plainly, shall we?", he asked looking into her eyes. She nodded.

"Your father will remain in Nottingham. You will stay here.", he began seeing how the weight of his words was slowly sinking in. "Form time to time you will be required to do certain things". This made Marian stand up a little and give him a look of objection. "You will obey!", he commanded in a confident, low voice. "If you don't, your father will pay the price. He will pay it until you learn to obey".

Marian had started shivering at the mere thought of the control that these people had over her.

Guy continued … "If you give the people around this house a hard time, I will hurt your father". "If you try to hurt yourself, I will hurt your father". "Every time you try to escape, I will hurt your father" …

By this time Marian had turned her face away from her captor for she did not want to give him the satisfaction of seeing the tears that she was no longer able to hold in.

But Gisborne would have none of that. He had to make his point as clear as possible, so he grabbed her arm violently and turned around to face him …"And if you succeed in escaping … I will kill your father", he concluded in a low, menacing whisper. "And I can assure you, Marian. It will be a very slow, painful death."

She looked back at him with terror and hate. Tears were rolling out of her eyes uncontrollably and it took all of her will power not to gasp for air, as swallowing became increasingly painful. Guy looked at her and all he could think was: "There you go, Marian. There you go."

As he was contemplating the result of his triumph, one of his soldiers busted into the house. This was not a welcomed interruption and that was made perfectly clear when Guy turned around to face the poor man with a look of steel: "Who gave you permission to walk in here like this?", he bellowed out.

"I apologies, sir", the man tried to excuse himself. "But a messenger has brought a letter for you. He says it's vital you read it straight away.", he concluded handing Guy the document in question.

Guy was still not satisfied with his soldier's behavior so he grabbed the letter violently out of the man's hand and told him to get out.

Before reading the letter, he saw Marian pull away from him and move to one of the corners of the room. He let her go. He was finished with her for the moment anyway.

Marian looked at him while he was reading the letter. He started off by being less then interested in its content, reading indifferently and quickly, being obviously eager to get it over with.

But the more he read, the more Marian could see his interest was growing. He started holding it tighter and tighter and bringing it closer to him. His face became darker and darker and she thought she could actually see his hands trembling for a second. He kept starring at the letter for a good ten seconds, even is Marian was quite certain that he had finished it.

Then he looked up, curled the letter in his fist and stormed out of the house … Marian could not imagine what had brought the usually collected Gisborne to this state of tension but she was grateful that it had resulted in him leaving.

_Right worthy and worshipful sir, I recommend myself to you as John of Bracy, the man that was supposed to call you his son by now. _

_Alas this is not to be, for I find myself writing you this letter in a state of deep sorrow._

_It has been many moons since I have sent my daughter, Isabelle, to you in the hope that she would find happiness and fulfillment in Nottingham. Tragically, all-mighty God had other plans and my child has been returned to me but a few days ago … dead._

_My daughter and I were as close as any father and daughter could ever be which was the reason why the lack of news from her in the two months since I had estimated you and her had been married, troubled me deeply. I had gone about making my own investigations but came out empty handed … until the fateful day that her body was placed in front of my house in the middle of the night._

_On closer observation, it became clear that my daughter had been murdered. Her throat cut open. Even now, that my child has been put to rest that image still haunts my dreams and fills my heart with pain._

_All the inquiries into the matter of her death and of the people responsible for it resulted to nothing, which brings me to the reason behind this letter._

_Sir, I beseech you to look into the death of my child. The Sheriff of Nottingham's last letter had presented you as a man of action and influence. I ask you now to make use of that influence and catch who ever did this. About the dowry that I had given to my daughter, you may keep it. I would give everything I own on top of it. The only thing I ask in return is the name of the Godless murderer that did this to my child and to know that he is brought to justice._

_On my part, there is not much information that I can offer to aid you in your search. Only this: the last letter I received from my beloved Isabelle was sent during the last part of her journey, from the town of Basford, which I understand is but ten days away from Nottinghamshire. Her letter had been written in good spirits and nothing seemed to be troubling her. She told me that she had made a new friend on her journey … a woman that had become a most agreeable companion. Perhaps this woman knows something about my child's movements in the days that fallowed and that ultimately resulted in her death._

_I know that this letter will take many days to reach you and that any news from you will take equally as long to get back to me. I fear it will feel like an eternity but I will wait patiently for it, even if my state of health is not the best … Still I know I shall not be able to rest until I know who it was that took my child away from me._

_All-mighty God have you in his governance. Written at Bracy on the V day of April, in the year of our Lord 1193. _

The words stuck to his brain as leeches, draining him of life. Remembering them sent merciless blows to his stomach …"_My child has been returned to me dead_" …"_There was a woman with her_" … The truth slowly became apparent to him.

He had been leaving a lie. He had been cruelly and painfully mistaken once more. He did not have the things that he thought he had finally obtained. His world suddenly stopped being full. It became empty in a matter of seconds, and its loss left Guy in a state of pure physical and emotional pain.

He was ridding his horse hard, making his way back to Locksley. His face and actions may have seemed determined and clear to the people that fallowed after him but in truth they were not. He did not know what he was going to do once he got home. He did not even know what he would find there. All he knew was that he had to get there as soon as possible otherwise his brain would burst under the burden of the doubts that were overpowering him.

The woman he had been living with all these months … his beautiful Isabelle … was not Isabelle de Bracy at all. He did not know who she was and what cruel joke she was playing on him. All he knew in that moment was that he needed to look into her face once more … this time knowing the truth. He wanted to see what her eyes would tell him now. Would they still tell him that she loved him, as he had thought before? Or had he been wrong once more? Had he been once more cruelly betrayed by a pair of beautiful eyes? The thought was too much for him to bare.

As he finally arrived in the courtyard of the Locksley Manor, he jumped off the horse and started making his way to the house with giant steps. He had to see her, be near her. For a moment he contemplated the idea of not telling her about the letter, to pretend that he knew nothing for he feared that facing her with the truth might result in him losing her and that was a thought he refused to even contemplate … Still, he knew that he would not be able to live like that. It was not his nature to conceal a betrayal.

As he got near the door one of the sergeants that were left guarding his house came closer to him, to welcome him. Guy stopped briefly since he felt something was wrong. It was not the sergeant's place to welcome him:

"Where is Huntington?", he asked in a rough voice that gave away his state of agitation while his eyes were nervously moving from the sergeant to the door and back.

The man looked awkward and nervous. Still he was quick to answer. He did not want to add to the state of aggravation that his commander was obviously in: "He's gone, sir. He's been missing since this morning".

Guy's face and posture froze as the man continued … "I've taken the liberty of sending a search party after him but until now they have come up empty handed."

Guy's world started spinning once more. He become deaf and blind to everything around him as his brain was trying to make sense of what he had heard, but all the possible answers that he came up with seemed too cruel to be true. Could he really have been that stupid?

With that thought in his mind, he turned from the sergeant that was still standing in front of him and opened the door to his house. It felt more as a kick as he concentrated all his muscles and his anger at it. It was by shire miracle it did not fall down under the pressure.

He made his way to the middle of the hallway and sat a few seconds without any ideas as to what he was going to do next. His mind was slowly going blank.

That was when Thornton came in to greet him. He, as everyone else in the house, had heard his horse and the loud noise he produced while opening the door. He had wanted to welcome him properly but upon seeing Guy's face he thought better of it.

Guy was standing still, with his eyes firmly set into the ground. He was frowning and his eyes seemed to be desperately looking for something. His hands trembled slightly from time to time.

It was a sight that Thornton was not used to. He seemed almost fragile. He did not know what had happened to bring Gisborne in that state, but it had to be something extremely serious, for him to allow anyone to see him like this. The sudden break of silence caused Thornton to flinch out in fear as he heard his master's voice …

"Where is Lady Gisborne, Thornton?". Guy's voice sounded rough and nervous and he looked up at Thornton with a mix of anger and hope.

"She's in her room, my lord. Since this morning". The last sentence made Guy flinch. "The mistress said she was not feeling very well and that we were not to disturb her", the man added with increasing confusion as he saw Guy quickly turn away and start climbing the stairs three at the time.

The space between the stairs and the door of his bedchamber was covered in half the time it usually took him, and now he was standing next to the door with his hand on the knob.

He sat there unsure of what he was going to do. There it was. The moment of truth had finally arrived and he feared it. He feared what he would find behind that door … and mostly he feared that he knew exactly what he would find.

He took a deep breath, closed his eyes and pushed the door aside.

He stood in the doorway, keeping his eyes closed. His heart had began beating faster and faster until he felt that it was about to tear out of his chest So he had no other choice but to open his eyes …once he did, he found nothing.

Nothing seemed to be out of place. The bed had been made and everything seemed the same way he had left it. With one big exception: his wife was not there.

As he started to move about the room, the emptiness was starting to slowly fill his soul. He looked around for a trace of her. There was none. No noise was coming from the bathing room, so he entertained no hopes that she might be in there.

Even if he felt his eyes were slowly being covered by a black veil, he forced himself to keep focused. He looked around only to discover that the window had been opened and a sheet was dangling from it.

He ran to look down to where the window was facing … there was no sign of anyone there so he picked up the sheet quickly and threw it under the bed.

As he walked around more signs of her absence were revealing themselves to him. He stood in front of the mirror she had been sitting at so many times. Her brush, her perfume … all the things she had placed so carefully on it were gone.

He could still smell her scent near it, though, as he took long, deep breaths to somehow encage her essence. He closed his eyes briefly and he could swear he saw her brushing her hair in front of that same mirror, so he quickly opened them hoping to see her there. But the chair remained empty .

He turned around and his gaze focused on her clothing chest which was standing silently at the bottom of the bed as it had always. There it was! The final piece of evidence …the final thing that would convince him that, without even knowing it, he had lost everything.

He approached it slowly, almost begging whoever was up there not to let it be. He opened it only to find it starring back empty. Her clothes were gone. Everything was gone.

Only one thing remained at the bottom of the chest … her wedding ring. It had been placed carefully right in the middle. He reached down and picked it up and in doing so collapsed on the floor.

He sat on the ground looking at it, touching it, moving it from one hand to the other. He had always thought it was a stingy ring … not fit for her. And still it had become the only thing he had left of her. She had worn it. One of her fingers had been encaged in its circle.

He was glad she did not take it with her. "She had no reason to", he thought. It was not worth much … That thought caused him to look up … "It was not worth much …", he repeated out loud … and jumped off the floor and started running … out the door, down the hallway.

He finally arrived at his destination … the room in which he kept his fortune. He sat first inspecting the door. He had managed to gain some of his control and strength back as he looked around. Everything seemed in order: the door was not broken into, the lock looked untouched, so finally he reached for his pocket and pulled the key out. He turned the key around and opened the door expecting the worst.

But everything seemed in order. He spent a considerable amount of time looking around, inspecting every chest … only to find that all of his money was in its place.

He was now increasingly confused. He did not know what to make of it … This was all … This was all the money he had.

But suddenly he remembered and threw his head back … This was not all.

Once more he started running. This time down the stairs, through the hallway until he reached the door of the cellar. He opened it quickly and made his way down. He flew past the provisions that were stored there … These were of no interest to him.

As he came closer and closer to the door that he had so carefully checked four days ago he could see clearly that it was open wide. He already knew why but still, he entered the room and sat in the middle of it without moving.

They were gone … The five chests of gold he had received before marring Isabelle … the ones he had kept so safe … the reason why he had married her in the first place … All gone.

Now he finally understood the complete and cold truth … This was what she had come for … This was what she had been after all this time …And everything else was just a means to an end … He had been a means to an end.

He wanted to hate her. He wanted to imagine chocking her to death as he had once with Marian but it would not do. He did not have the strength yet so he simply sat there numb as tears started falling from his eyes. He hated himself for shading them but it could not be helped.

Long after his tears had frozen on his cheek he came out of the room and left the cellar, climbing the stairs slowly but not before he had grabbed a bottle of wine.

As he made his way to the dining hall, his once proud walk what would inform everyone of his arrival had been converted to a slow sequence of steps as he forced himself to move … For she was gone … and the demons were back. It was night.

He finally made it to the hall. He dragged his chair at the table and collapsed on it, putting the bottle on the table.

He had brought it to drink it but now he did not feel like it. He pushed his chair away from the table until he could stretch his long legs as well as he could, put his hands on his stomach and sat there.

Once Gisborne had run up the stairs, Thornton had gone back to the kitchen. He did not dare to fallow him to the room and he did not want to hear the argument that Gisborne would undoubted have with his wife. He liked Lady Isabelle and he pitied her for having to be married to such an evil man.

But as he heard nothing coming out of the room, he grew increasingly nervous so once more he made his way back to the hallway only to see that the room in which the master kept all of his fortune and that no one was allowed to go into, was opened. He thought this to be a most strange thing because the master never left it open. So finally he made his way up only to see that the door to the master's bedchamber was also open and there were no signs that anyone was in there.

He slowly came closer to the door until he was sure that it was empty. And then he entered. What he saw inside soon convinced him that the mistress was no more. Her clothes were gone … all of her belongings as a matter of fact … She had left without saying a word to anyone.

And that was when he heard noises in the dining hall.

Entering it now, he saw Gisborne sitting near the table. One bottle was standing in front of him, untouched. The more he looked at his master, the more Thornton was convinced that it was him he should have pitied and not the mistress.

He sat there, with his chin down into his chest without as much as a sound or look of acknowledgement …He came closer to him but he did not speak. He did not know what to say.

It was Guy that finally broke the silence when he stated what was perhaps the most painful thing he had ever uttered:

"She's gone, isn't she, Thornton?"

The servant looked at him and simply said the truth: "Yes, my lord … she is"


	11. Interlude

First I would like to start byt thanking you for the interest you've showen in my story.

Now ...This chapter is not an acttual chapter, hance the title .. it's more of a way of connecting the first 10 chapters with what's going to happen from now on and a way to offer more information ...It's a bit short but I did not think it needed adding ...Hope you like it!

Interlude

_This is not a story about redemption … but it is a story about love …_

_She was a woman, but before that she had been a girl. _

_We are all ashamed of our childhoods one way or another. We have all done something then that makes us cringe now … For some, it might be lifting a friend's skirt and in doing so exposing her naked bottom and giving her shame … For others it might be killing small chicks or pulling the legs of a mosquito … These things haunt us, make us less proud of ourselves but rarely have a real impact later on …_

_But for her … what she had done, what she was ashamed of, had consequences … for what she had agreed to as a child determined what she had become as a woman._

_As true for most of us, she too could not remember the first years of her life. They were drenched in darkness and shadows but she guessed not much different from the ones she could remember. For all of them were spent at the abbey._

_Most orphanages are set in nunneries under the supervision of mercifully nuns, given their female character that is more likely to give comfort to young souls that have come into this world with nothing …_

_This was not the case for her …The monks were not kind. They did not give comfort. They did not even give names. For ten years of her life she had been a number …66… . They were children of the devil, they were told, so they did not deserve names. _

_This, of course, did not stop the monks from enjoying the flesh of the devil after which punishing it for leading them to sin._

_Every year on their birthday they were made to sit in a cage naked. It was too small to stand straight in, not wide enough no lie in and there was no window. Just three small holes. It was placed in the middle of the yard, and on any given day she could see someone in there, because you knew when you went in but not when you were coming out … She remembered that cage well, especially since her birthday was placed somewhere in July and the cage would become hot under the unforgiving heat of the sun, and you could no longer touch the walls for support. The only possible position that she was left in was unimaginable. _

_The monks told her that the cage was going to save her immortal soul, because she had been created in sin and staying in there on that particular day was the only way she could make up for it._

_Funny enough … she did not find salvation in the cage … but it was the place where she found her … Josephine …she was strong and she helped 66 become a person. Josephine did not need a soul nor did she want one. She did not need redemption nor salvation … so whatever it was that she had inside of her before going into the cage was left stuck to the boiling walls when she got out …_

_And that's when he met her …Robert ... He had named himself too._

_He was fifteen. He also knew the cage well. He was born in December … Finding someone who shares the same conditions as yourself is surely a good way to start a new life, is it not? … So they ran away together …_

_He soon had become everything to her and she aspired to be the same for him …At first they lived of what he was able to steel in the street. Soon enough she learned the trade and started helping him. _

_She thought they were doing well, which is why she was surprised when he came home with another man. He was tall and had dark skin, no doubt from hundreds of hours spent in the sun working the fields. His cloths were dirty, his hands large and sweaty. _

_Robert invited the man in the back room, after which he returned to her. "This is a very special friend of mine … I want you to be very nice to him", he said pushing her towards the door._

_She remained in front of the door for a while, her hand placed on the knob. She tried to bring herself to open it, but she could not. So finally she turned towards him … "I'm sorry, I can't do this", she said with tears pouring out and desperation in her eyes. _

_He seemed to understand. He nodded and then quickly got rid of the man._

_She was so thankful as he approached her, but then she saw it. A small whip, light enough not to leave marks but swift enough to cause a lot of pain._

_He ordered her to remove her cloths and for the next hour he taught her the value of obedience. Laying there semi-unconscious she could feel his breath near her ear as he talked to her: "And remember no one knows what you are except me. And no one would ever love you if they knew what you are … except me"._

_The next day he brought the man back. This time she did not say no. When it was all done Robert gave her a simple, leather collar. He told her to wear it._

_She thought they were the same. She had been wrong. He was a different kind of animal._

_Soon enough, she realized she was once again confined to a cage. A cage of lies and countless men that became more and more refined and perverted as they moved from town to town and up in the world. So she had to invent herself all over again._

_By age fifteen, she had become an artist of deception. She practiced smiling while breaking each of her fingers. She read the Bile to find out what noble women were expected to be like, listened to gossip to find out what they were really like, talked to learned men to find out what to think … and then Josephine was, at last, born._

_Her means were complex, but her end simple: to survive. She would kill, lie, cheat and steel to achieve her propose. _

_Josephine controlled everything, manipulated anyone and cared about nothing. There was one thing she was never able to do: untie herself from Robert. He remained in control of her. He would keep her focused and then unleash her on whatever he wanted. _

_The only means of escape she was capable of was to run away. But he would always find her._

_And then she met him … He was a man tormented and unloved. She knew exactly what to do in order to make him blind, but she did not know that in doing so she was also falling. _

_She spent hours looking at him in the darkness of the night and she finally realized it … They were the same… and it was like finding a mirror, the most loyal mirror._

_There next to him she found her soul. It had traveled behind her from that cage and now it was finally catching up. And then, for the first time she looked at it: it was dark, hurt and filled with violence. She was ashamed … but there was also love …for him. Her soul was his. She had never been one to give anything away, but there, next to him she understood what it was to love someone._

_So she set out to give him what he needed. He wanted redemption, but what he really needed was acceptance. True, undiluted, complete understanding. _

_She saw him for what he was and gave him peace. Then she left him…_

_This is not a story about redemption … but it is a story about love …She was a woman without a soul and he was a man in need of one … They found each other … Perfect mirrors of themselves … and without knowing it … _they fell.


	12. Chapter 11: Gates of hell

Ok ... so chapter 11, finally ... Hope you like it. Oh, and from now one I'm going to rate the story an **M, **because of the increase of the sexual content.

Chapter 11 – Gates of hell

It had been six weeks. Six weeks since she had left …. Six weeks of darkness, and wine … and countless women. Six weeks in which he had not thought about her at all.

Or that was, at least, what he kept telling himself in order to remain sane. The truth was that he avoided thinking about her.

He avoided thinking about her when he woke up every morning, wretched mornings that they were: cold, and grey … and lonely. No beautiful body to warm up his bed … no hand placed on his body to keep the demons away.

He avoided thinking about how lovely she looked every morning at the dinning table, so he ate his meal in silence and with eyes firmly set into the plate for looking up meant seeing the chair placed in front of him … and its emptiness pained him.

He refused to think about her when he rode off to Nottingham … which had become a quite rare affair, for he had neither the strength nor the energy to put up with the Sheriff. This of course did not sit well with Vasey, who made it clear every time he saw Guy and since his visits had become increasingly absent, and motivated with all sorts of reasons, sometimes verging on the absurd … letters would arrive at Locksley almost every day from an enraged Sheriff.

Still Guy did not care … He went when it was strictly necessary and ignored the letters in the rest of the time. He had lost his taste for court bickering and ironic dialogue with that insane midget that called him his master-at-arms … Not that he had had a taste for such things in the past.

But at night … Oh! At night … That was when he was truly tested, when he had to do almost the impossible not to think of her … for his nights were painfully lonely and the demons were all around him …taunting him, bringing memories back that were meant to remain safely hidden deep down in his brain …

After his nights had, briefly, been filled with light and fire-like hair, everything was now back the way it had been before she had arrived in his life. Only this time it was different … for he had not only his sins to keep him company during the night but also her absence … and that was a burden he did not want to carry. But as much as he tried to rid himself of it, he could not.

So he did what any man in his position would do … He would grab the first kitchen wench he saw (except Mary … she was too old and pruney … he still had standards, after all) and bed her.

Bed her was a gentle way of putting it. It was actually a quite dark affair in itself, as he pushed her on the bed … table, or whatever was near him at the time.

There was no preamble … all his actions were concentrated towards momentary pleasure on his part and, perhaps, appeasing his anger slightly.

So most often he would simply take his breeches off and start pushing into the woman that happened to be there at the time, gabbing forcefully on one of her breasts or her thighs until he would leave it black and blue …pushing his fingers over her mouth until they would become red and swore … All this until his release would come and with it both his physical need and his violent heart would be satisfied, for the moment … Then he would leave, never looking back … But somewhere in the back of his mind he would still hear the woman sobbing … That would please him … for every woman he slept with was her.

He would see her everywhere he went … Her face would hunt him in the streets, in the yards, in his mind. Every woman he would see had her face … but still, they did not come close to replacing her inside him.

There was one thing he did not do … He never took any woman into his bedchamber ... her bedchamber, as he thought of it even now …That was a boundary that he could not break for as much as he had tried. There he entered alone … the only thing he would bring would be the wine, which had become a constant companion … He would drink a sufficient amount to anaesthetize himself and then blessed and dark sleep would finally come.

But until he would fall asleep, he sometimes had revelations … the kind of truth that only a drunken mind could produce … He had been married to a dream, he realized. A dream that had stolen his soul.

"God must have been very angry with me the day he let me look into that woman's eyes", he thought.

What these six weeks had made him clearly and painfully aware of was the lonely state in which he found himself. He had no one … This had been true for a very long time before she had arrived and he had always tried to rectify the situation, but it had never bothered him as much as it did at this particular moment.

There were so many things that were burdening his mind … which he felt an acute urge to rid himself of and tell them to someone else … but there was no one. He had, of course, many acquaintances but that meant nothing … for he trusted none of them. He could not think of anyone who would not laugh at his pain and then spread it around for everyone to know his shame …

He could, of course, force someone to listen … God knows … there were quite a great many that were scared of him … but that would not do.

No, there was no one … He had fooled himself into thinking that she had become the person who brought comfort and ease but it was not so … He was perfectly alone in the world.

In his state of self-proclaimed loner, nothing seemed to please him. He had thought that, perhaps, seeing someone else, more miserable then he would somehow make the pain a little more bearable so for the first four weeks of his hell, he would go and visit Marian constantly.

He was aware that he had striped her of everything she had … Her home, her lover, her father … her freedom. Even her spirit was starting to wither under the burden of her imprisonment and apparent lack of salvation… But still he found no comfort when looking into the sad eyes of the brave Lady Marian …

He did not realize why for the longest time, which became the reason behind his coming back. He was set on claming his peace of mind at the cost of her anguish … But even if there was sufficient anguish within her as to appease him, there was something else that unbalanced Guy somewhat … This took time to be recognized by the inexperienced eyes of someone who was sure he was not loved by anyone. … The comfort and hope that can only be given by the certainty that, even if they are not near you, there are people in the world who love you. That you are present in their thoughts always … That is what he found in Marian's eyes.

When he realized that, Guy stopped coming to Knighton Hall … Coming back would only further prove that even she, who was a prisoner, was happier then him. At least she had someone to think about, and someone who would think about her. He was sure that even Robin Hood, who he had been told was always circling Kighton Hall like a caged lion (not that he needed anyone to tell him that, he could smell him from miles away)… Even him, living in the forest, far away from his home and his lover, was happier then Guy of Gisborne.

That made Guy hate Hood even more then he had before. Hood had friends, he had the love of hundreds of peasants… He even had the love of a good and noble woman (deep down Guy had to admit that Marian was a woman as few could be found in the world), while he … he had nothing.

* * *

Today was a bad day …All his days had become wretched lately, but today was especially bad.

Guy found himself, once again, in the Great Hall of Nottingham Castle coming to aid the Sheriff in some important matter … The truth was that the letter he had received the day before from Vasey, summoning him to come to Nottingham the next day made Guy realize that the Sheriff was at the end of his rope and that the clever thing to do was to please Vasey … And since Gisborne had always prided himself on being a clever man, he now found himself standing in front of a raving-mad Sheriff that was bellowing on and on until Guy actually had the feeling that his ears had started to bleed.

"For a man that does not like the moaning and wailing of women, he is sure making a lot of noise", Guy thought.

"He refuses to eat!", the Sheriff screamed all of a sudden and rose slightly from his chair, staring directly at his master-at-arms.

Guy actually thought his eyes would pop out for a second but alas, they did not …"Well, that 's a shame …" .

"I feed him my best food and he refuses it!", the Sheriff continued as he came round the table in his silk garment and approached Guy.

"My lord…", Guy was starting to get weary of the Sheriff's lamentations … "If Sir Edward refuses to eat, I cannot very well force the food down his throat".

"Oh, yes, you can!", Vasey responded menacingly.

"My lord, he would choke!", Guy explained ironically making the vein on Vasey's neck start beating faster …

"Gisborne, I do not know what is wrong with you lately. You do not arrive when I need you. You refuse to do what I ask. Trouble at home? Hmmm?", Vasey asked in his inquisitive, venomous voice trying to get the upper hand.

This unbalanced Guy severely but he did his best to conceal it … "There is no trouble.", he answered gloomily.

"That is not what I hear", the Sheriff continued shaking his finger and turning towards the table. "I hear your wife is not in Locksley". The Sheriff was taunting still not sure what to believe but wanting to see just how much damage he could produce. "Have you driven her away, Gisborne?", he added shaking his head in disapproval … "You wicked, wicked man …Such beauty finally free of it's cage?"

Guy looked away from the Sheriff. He did not want him to see the pain that his words were producing. "Cage? What cage?", he thought. He had given her everything … his name, his love …and she took it all.

"She has gone to visit her father. She will be back shortly", he said absently. He knew how pathetic he sounded but he could not help it. He would conceal the truth as long as possible. No one would know his shame until it became absolutely necessary … And he had devised a plan to make sure it never became necessary.

"Well", Vasey said ready to conclude this conversation much to Gisborne's relief, "I did not call you here to talk about your pretty wife … Go talk to Edward. Convince him …"

"My lord …", Guy started again as if he was explaining it to a child …

This only aggravated Vasey more … "You will go and talk to him!", he bellowed out. "I don't care what you do … Push the food into his mouth, read him bedtime stories… Just get him to eat! I want the bastard alive!"…

Guy could still hear the antics of the Sheriff as he was making his way through the hallways of the castle. He had forgotten the smell of Nottingham … thick and smoky …The steel-like smell of blood combined with essences that the Sheriff had brought especially from the Holy Land … a quite unfortunate combination, Guy had thought … but still that smell was now embedded in his lungs … It had become him. He was the rather unfortunate combination of blood and expensive essences.

He finally made his way through the dark corridors, deep down in the belly of the castle, until he arrived at Sir Edward's room. It was placed in the oldest and windiest part of the castle. Guy himself had been here but twice in the entire time he had worked for the Sheriff. It was quite abandoned and hardly appropriate for living, especially now that winter was approaching. He was almost certain that the fireplaces were mostly out of use.

This was what a venomous and evil mind like the Sheriff's could do to his enemies … This was a slow and painful decent into death. All done according to the Sheriff's plan. And now he was of course mad out of his mind, because Sir Edward had decided to extract himself from the game and find the only dignified way of exiting … Not that starving to death was, by any consideration, dignified. Guy knew that well enough and he had seen it in many prisoners. It was a long, drawn out affair that would drive the person crazy with pain and delusion before allowing him to die … But still it was a death by choice, and that was a triumph that the Sheriff would not give to Edward.

He pushed the door aside and entered the large, grey room. As soon as he stepped inside, he had to quickly put his gloved hand over his nose and mouth as the stench of dried sweat and urine was surrounding the tightly closed room as a smoke cloud. It was unbearable. He ran and quickly opened the window in order to be able to breath. Guy was not a squeamish man but still the smell was too much.

Even if the room was by no means improved smell wise by the opened window, as long as he stood in front of it, Guy could put up with it so he turned to face the prisoner.

The room was scarcely furnished, with only a table and two chairs placed in the middle of it, a fire place with no fire and no wood in one of the corners which Guy estimated had not been used for years and would have been too small to properly warm up such a large room, anyway.

And somewhere opposite the window sat a small bed, that Guy guessed was the principal culprit for the awful smell. Sir Edward had given up on the idea of using the night pot, that had been provided and took care of his necessities right were he slept, hoping that this would somehow speed up his death.

Looking at Sir Edward, Guy needed a few moments to realize that it was the same person. He had only stopped eating a week earlier but already his complexion had gathered a yellow, grey pallor to it. His eyes were so far gone into his head that they were hardly visible and large, dark circles surrounded them. He was, by all accounts, a dead man walking.

Guy knew that no matter his circumstances, he would never allow himself to get to this state. Even in his present state of pain, he still took care of himself. He still shaved, bathed and dressed in clean clothes everyday even if there were some mornings when the idea of getting up was unthinkable … But this… this was a quite desolate picture ….

He pulled a chair and placed it near the window, after which he sat down. Once he settled into the chair he could finally look Edward, who was standing on the edge of the bed, obviously too weak to stand up or make any movement … Once he had made eye contact, Guy started talking … "Well … this is a quite pathetic spectacle", he said ironically.

Edward flinched, as if the sounds were hurting him but still he said nothing …

"How long do you intend to go without food, Sir Edward?", Guy continued calmly, looking through the window as the sun was setting … What beautiful colors, he thought all of a sudden. Red and violet with just a touch of black along the edges, as the world was once again preparing to decent into darkness. And still… those colors could not compare with the colors of her dark hair against the light … This last thought angered him. Why did he have to think about her? And why do it with such tenderness? … He shook his head, as if to chase away those thoughts and turned from the window and towards a man that was himself living a private hell.

Sir Edward finally spoke. Slowly and in a low voice … He lacked the strength to have a proper conversation, especially to this monster sited in front of him … "I will go without food for as long as I choose. You cannot force me to eat …".

"I have no intention of forcing you to eat … I am not a chamber maid placed here to feed you … But I know you …. You will eat. You lack the resolve to carry this plan to the end", Guy said in a confident, sharp voice.

This angered Edward … "You know nothing of me …"

"I know you are coward", Guy replied with a violent look in his eyes … "In all the time that I have known you, you have never done the brave thing. You forge plans that don't work, say things that you do not carry out. Drop your eyes into the ground every time someone you know gets hurt and hope that the next one isn't you." … "For God's sake, Edward", this was the first time that Guy had called Edward by his name and not his title, "you even let me strike you in your own house". This made the old man flinch and raise his eyes to meet Guy's. But now, as ever, he lacked the resolve that only the eyes of people like Guy, used to fighting for survival, have, so he did not speak. "And then,", Guy lowered his voice slightly and put his hands on his knees so he could look at Edward better, "to add insult to injury, you accepted my apologies …that I didn't even mean."

"I do not expect an animal like you to understand politics", Edward finally managed to utter …And it was perhaps the most determined thing he had ever said to Guy.

But Guy was not unbalanced by the description … "Oh, Edward … It is 1193 … We are all animals! It's just that some are predators and other, try as they might, will always be the pray."

Edward had no doubt in which category he had been placed.

"But …", Guy said slapping his hands on the leather of his breeches and raising from the chair, "I did not come here to talk about the natural order of things.". "I came because I thought that you would like to know that your daughter is back at Knighton Hall".

This caught Edward's attention. He had been kept here for quite some time and no news had reached him… Still, he had hoped that Marian was safe and taken care of by Robin. But it was not so … She was a prisoner herself.

"And I am pleased to tell you, that unlike you, she has a very healthy appetite".

"Is she all right?", Edward asked desperately … "Have you … Have you …."

"Have I what?", Guy asked abruptly. "She is in perfect health, if that concerns you. Which, I think, in the condition that you seem to find yourself in, hardly promotes daughterly affection", Guy said ironically. "This is why I have decided to subject her to the same treatment you seem to be forcing upon yourself". And with that he turned away and started walking towards the door, sure in the fact that Edward would stop him.

"Stop", a low, desperate scream called out. "Stop", Edward pleaded.

Guy stopped and turned around with his hand still on the knob …"Yes?"

"You would not do such a thing!", Edward said half agony, half hope …

"Wouldn't I?"

"You loved her once … Perhaps you still do …"

Love … Love …. Why did he have to bring up love into this? Yes, Guy knew what love was. It was a blinding and foolish dream that would leave you empty and crazy once it was over. Yes! He knew what that felt like. He did not feel that for Marian, but he felt it acutely nonetheless.

"Animals don't love, Sir Edward", Guy finally said in a low, rough voice. "They submit the weaker to their will" … "You will eat or I will do this", he said pointing around the room, "and much, much worse to your precious daughter …".

Of course, he had no intention of doing such a thing to Marian. He needed her in perfect health for she had to be a perfect social pawn but he still put on a great show and the old man bought it all. He would do whatever Guy desired …

He opened the door slightly and summoned the guard placed in front of Sir Edward's room to enter.

The man reluctantly came in. He knew the smell would be horrid and the state the man inside was in, scared him.

"You will bring him food", Guy ordered …"And you will stay until he finishes everything". The man nodded. "You will air this room everyday. I do not care how much he protests or how cold it gets.". "And he will use his night pot!", Guy finished menacingly looking back at Edward who had resigned himself to whatever was to come … "And if he doesn't, make him clean it up". The idea brought a smile to Guy's face as well as the soldier's. "That will teach him.".

And with that, Guy left the room without looking back.

* * *

Soon enough, Guy had made his way back to Locksley and for once, as he entered the Manor, good news was awaiting him.

His trusted man had returned. After six weeks of hell, there was finally news.

"So have you found them?", Guy asked impatiently.

"Just the woman, sir. The man is no where to be found", he answered.

"So … she has betrayed him also. She has most likely taken the money and left the wretched bastard to his fate. But sure enough, he was now looking for her quite in the same way I am… So, catch her and I get him and the money …", Guy thought satisfied.

"Where is she?", he finally asked with a half grin blooming in the corner of his mouth.

"In London, sir. That was why it took so long. London is a good place to get lost in. But she has been seen in the company of Lord Christopher of Winkel, in the 'social' part of town", the man elaborated feeling quite awkward.

Guy knew very well what the "social part" of London included. It was those fashionable places in which rich, married nobles would take their lovers.

He knew Winkel as well. Quite the buffoon, but very generous to beautiful women from what he had heard.

So, while he had been here in hell, his darling wife was having the time of her life and already scouting her next victim … But her triumph would be short lived, for he would find her and when he did, he would kill her … And in doing so, he would finally set his world right again.


	13. Chapter 12: Looking for her

Chapter 12 – Looking for her

It had taken him exactly one hour to put all of his affairs in order, jump on his horse and make his way to London. He was now riding his horse hard and was fallowed closely by William Shepard, his trusted man.

The journey from Nottingham to London generally took in excess of three days, but from the way Guy was traveling he would arrive there in half the time. He had no luggage and no escort. The only things he had brought with him were his money, his sword and his dagger.

He had no intention of using the sword… but the dagger … oh!, the dagger would be very useful, indeed.

In the six weeks, since she had left he had cleaned and polished that dagger almost every day, while he was drinking his wine and in the same chair that she had once sat in brushing her beautiful, long hair. He had sharpened it even if he did not need to. He did this to prove to himself that he had truly resolved to kill her … but he also did it for another reason that was hard to accept … He did not want her to suffer.

He wanted her dead because she had betrayed him and that was a crime that he could never forgive. He wanted her dead because she had made a fool of him and he especially wanted her dead because he knew he could not have her.

But with all that he could still not bring himself to torture or cause her pain. He did not want to ruin her beautiful body and face with daggers or whips. He did not want her to die a slow, painful death. He had seen how the prisoners that he had tortured looked once he was done with them: the bruised, disgusting flesh; the look of pain and pure, complete lack of life … the agony.

"No!", he thought shaking his head. For as much as her abandonment and deception had hurt him, he could not wish that for her … But she had to die. Of that he was certain for he would never be able to find peace knowing that she was living happily in some part of the world … with another man.

For that … for his foolish passion for her … Suddenly he shook his head again. It was time to call it by it's proper name … for the great love that he had been foolish enough to bestow on her … For all that, she had no one to blame but herself.

She had played with him, manipulated and charmed him to the point of madness and finally pushed him into hell without looking back for one second. So, now the consequences of those actions were about to catch up with her and she was the only one responsible for what he was about to do.

After almost a day of riding endlessly, Guy finally had to stop. The horses were tired and needed rest and food and his trusted man did not look so good either. And even Guy, with all of his desire to arrive as soon as possible in London, had to admit he felt tired and was in need of sleep.

They stop at a small inn which was placed conveniently very near the road. It had been opened with the idea of offering shelter and hot food for travelers.

There was not much to recommend the place, Guy thought. It was a quite poor establishment, very cheaply furnished. The owner showed Guy and his companion personally to their rooms. It was a rare honor to have such an important guest in their humble inn and he wanted to make sure that Guy of Gisborne would be pleased.

Guy was, of course, not pleased. He mostly wanted the man's chatter to stop and to be left alone, so he finally interrupted him abruptly and sharply:

"I wish to be left alone for the next hour after which I will come down and have my dinner in peace. So if you could see to that ….". Guy was used to order men around so he made it in the simplest and most relaxed manner he was capable of after riding for an entire day.

The man nodded and quickly left. He would make sure he had the best food ready for Sir Guy and have his best looking maid serve him. After all, these great men were never satisfied with just a good meal and sleep.

The room Guy had been brought to, he had been assured, was the inn's best. It was not much. It was rather dark even if candles had been lited all over the room, the furniture was made from cheap wood and there was not much of that. But the bed, at least, was large and seemed clean. Guy finally unfastened his sword belt and dropped it to the floor before collapsing on the bed.

Even if the bed was comfortable and sleeping seemed a very good idea, Guy soon discovered that he could not close his eyes. He was too restless, too many thoughts were going through his head without rest that he simply could not keep still.

So once again he jumped to his feet and made his way towards the water pitcher that had been placed on the dressing table for him to wash. The water felt cool and it revigorated him once he managed to wash away the dust from his face and upper body. Once he was done he found that there was no towel next to the bowl. He looked around but could not find anything that he could use to dry himself.

"Why didn't the idiot put a towel out?", Guy thought aggravated as he moved towards the closet. He hoped he would find a towel in there but when he opened the door what he did find stoped him in his tracks.

The closet was empty with the exception of one garment that was placed on the top shelf. It was a woman's dress, Guy was certain but what made him pay close attention was the color. It was a grass green with golden trimings … It looked painfully familiar to Guy.

He quickly took it out and unwraped it. Yes, it looked very much like the dress Isabelle wore. The dress he had convinced her to make when they went together at the dressmaker. The color suited her so well. Every time she would put it on Guy felt as if he had a queen by his side.

And if there had been any doubts about wether the dress was hers or not, her scent was all over it. Guy held it close to his face and he could smell the fresh scent that he had come to know so well.

She had been here. In this room …

He quickly threw the dress to the ground and left the room. He made his way to the dinning hall.

It was a large, dark room. It had not been decorated at all. It simply served a function. There were a quite large number of people dining that night and they all stopped talking the minute Guy entered the room. They watched him closely as he made his way towards the table that had been kept for him, in the most isolated part of the room. Guy was used to this type of behavior so he did not feel uneasy. It was clear that the owner had announced everyone that a very important man was dining at the inn that night.

He finally sat down, next to William Shepard who had been sitting there for quite some time before Guy had arrived, listening to the people around talk.

"I think that I have a bit of news, sir", the man said.

Guy smiled …"Yes, I think I know what you are talking about. Call the inn's owner. I need to talk to him."

William rose from his seat and went towards the kitchen. In a matter of minutes he was back with the man Guy had asked for, who was very eager to please Lord Gisborne.

"Who stayed in the room you gave me, before?", Guy asked quizzically holding a goblet of wine and starring inside at the content.

"Oh … it was a young noble man with his wife….", the man answered simply.

The term "wife" made Guy flinch but he managed to conceal it. "How do you know they were nobles?", he asked with the same neutral expression.

"Well, the man was dressed very elegantly and so was his lady. Besides, you can tell such things. The way she walked, how she talked. Her beauty … It is unlikely you could find a woman like that amongst our village girls", the man answered obviously still enchanted by the woman.

"It is not likely you could find a woman like that amongst noble women either", Guy thought bitterly. "And how long did they stay?".

"Just two days, sir".

"And did you see them leave?", Guy asked feeling quite sure he knew the answer to that question.

"Well … I saw the man getting into a fancy cart. The lady must have been already inside. They left very early in the morning". The man was increasingly confused by the questions. He did not understand why it seemed that Sir Guy was so interested in something that had happened a considerable while ago. But, still, he dared not ask the reason behind his inquiries. He had heard and could personally sense that it was better not to cross Guy of Gisborne in any way.

Guy smiled. So this was where she left him. "Which way was he heading? Towards London?", he asked. He was sure that was where he was heading. He had gone to look for her.

"No, my lord", the man aswered. "He was heading the other way, towards Nottingham."

This made Guy look up confused and angry. "What was this?". Why was he going there? Huntington had to know Isabelle would not return to Nottingham. It was an unnecessary risk on her part. She knew very well Guy controlled everything that went around there. No one left or entered the town without him knowing about it. It made no sense …

After a long, harsh look that made the inn owner want to disappear, Guy finally controlled himself. "When did they come here?"

"About a month ago", the man answered sure of himself.

"You seem very certain …", William stepped in, doubting the truth of the date.

"I am.", the man answered with the same attitude. "It is hard to forget such a woman. Why … there were about ten lads that would gather for days after she had left just to discuss what they would have liked to do to her", the man added joyfully but the words froze on his mouth the second he looked into Guy's icy blue eyes. It was a look of pure rage.

It was all Guy could do not to rise from his chair and run this man through with his sword. But he reminded himself that the man knew nothing of his relationship with the woman. He even had to accept that thoughts like that were inevitable when in came to Isabelle. Aside from being beautiful, she could be charming, witty and seductive. She could make you do what she wanted with just looking at you.

He had seen the effect she had had over his own soldiers when she was still in Locksley. He did not feel offended or jealous then, for he thought she was his and no one else's but now … Now it was a different situation all together.

As the owner tried to make his way back to the kitchen, Guy stopped him. "One more thing …did they have a lot of baggage … I mean chests, large bags … that kind of thing …?"

The man looked confused but still he said nothing. "No, sir. Just two travel bags for their clothes …".

They must have hidden the bulk of the money in the surrounding areas. They could have not been able to make their way to the ocean that quickly and if they had, they would have left together with his chests of gold.

So there was still a good chance that his money was near by. This was very good news indeed, but somehow it did not make Guy feel better. It only took smelling her scent, seeing her dress and hearing about her to unbalance him. She had been here just a few weeks earlier. She had dined here and after that she had slept in the bed he would be sleeping in tonight. The thought had a certain sad appeal to it until he remembered. She had slept there … but with him.

As he was contemplating this, the owner returned with one of the maids and his food. Guy looked up at her as she was placing the food on the table.

Her ample neckline left very little to the imagination and as she leaned over to pour more wine into his goblet, he could see that what was hidden inside the cheap dress was quite an appealing prospect.

She smiled at him, as he leaned back into his chair to watch her better, trying to be as seductive as possible. It failed miserably. The smile had neither grace nor intelligence to it. It was a simple smile from what was, by all accounts, a very simple-minded girl.

Guy had to admit that the girl was no at all ugly. She had long, think blond hair and a very white complexion which was uncommon among the peasants. Her form was voluptuous but not bulky. Still, she held no appeal for him. But the prospects of spending a night alone in that room was not something Guy wanted to deal with so as he watched the girl make her way back to the kitchen, he grabbed the owner by the arm and pulled him closer. "I will not be dining tonight. Bring a bottle of wine to my room.', he said standing up from the table. "And in an hour, send the girl", he added as he started making his way towards his room.

He walked into the room, carefully closing the door and headed towards the table that had been placed near the window. As he walked, he passed the place where he had thrown the dress. He walked around it without as much as a glance.

He sat down and poured himself a large goblet of wine. Something he had done a lot of these past six weeks. As he drank more, he became even thirstier. But he did not want wine. He wanted … What was the point? He wanted what he couldn't have.

An hour later he had finished the bottle. It had not been enough to make him drunk but it had eased his mind a little. That is when he heard a soft knock on the door, that was fallowed by the girl entering the room.

She had brought another bottle of wine with her … "How thoughtful", he thought smiling in mischief.

"Put that dress one", he said pointing at the dress that was placed on the floor.

The girl picked it up and started feeling the material between her fingers. "Such a soft thing!", she said in admiration. "Such a fancy, lady dress for me?", she asked stupidly.

"I did not say you could keep it.", Guy interrupted her with a sharp, cold voice giving her a cruel smile. "Just put it on!", he ordered.

The girl finally started talking her clothes off. When she was done she slipped into the green dress. She had never felt more beautiful in her life.

"It's like dressing a cow in a cat's skin", Guy thought. The grace and elegance with which Isabelle had worn that dress had now been replaced by the chunky, man like way that this girl had of moving and walking.

He had wanted to replace Isabelle in that dress and with it, in his mind. He had planed on bedding this girl and in doing that erasing her image from him.

But Isabelle was as irreplaceable in him, as she was in that dress. He rose abruptly from his chair and sat on the bed with the empty bottle of wine in his hand. "Take that dress off and then leave", he ordered the girl and moved his hand dismissing her without as much as looking in her direction.

The girl was disappointed. This man was very handsome and from the way he had looked at her in the dining hall she could tell he had a way with women. She could not understand what she had done wrong but she quickly removed the dress, put her own clothes on and left the room.

Once again Guy was left with his demons, and it was now in this wretched room where she had probably laughed at how foolish he had been … together with her lover. The thought made him rise quickly from the bed. He did not want to lay there.

He took the dress of the floor and sat down at the table… Morning found him still standing there.

After a wretched night spent in that room and a day of riding, Guy and William Shepard finally entered London.

The shire size of this town still surprised Guy. Even if he was a nobleman and man of the world, he was still a country man at heart. He liked looking over his lands as far as the eye could see. He liked the stillness of nature around him, the sound of birds and leaves, the soft touch of wind on his face.

There were no such things to be found in London. There were people every where you looked, going one way or another. Constant chatter accompanied the town day and night. The streets were narrow and crowded with people, animals, houses and carts. You barely had room to breathe. Even the sky seemed crowded in London.

This part of town they were in now, was especially crowded. The 'social part' of London was not only the home of rich cheating husbands, young noblemen in search of entertainment and expensive mistresses. It was also the place where almost all of the perfume makers, dress makers and jewelry makers placed their shops, for the men had money to spend here and the mistresses encouraged them to do so. And one of those beautiful, wretched women was his wife …

It was also the home of the most expensive lodgings that could be found. And the most luxurious of these places was of course the 'Scarlett Crown'. It was placed on one of the most important streets and it overlooked the river … it was romantic and at the same time secluded from the poisoness eyes of the wives at home.

As they got off their horses, two grooms came rushing out to take care of their horses.

"I have secured you a room here, my lord", William Shepard said. "Most of the people that frequent this part of town come here very often. It's one of those …", Shepard stopped. He did not want to give offence.

"Fashionable places …", Guy finished the sentence for him. "I am familiar with these places", he added.

He remembered spending a week of decadence in this very place with a crazy redhead that had driven him mad with lust. He had thought then that she was the most beautiful woman he had ever seen. He knew now that he had been wrong.

He had seen many more beautiful women since then, Marian being one of them. And if he had to compare the redhead now with Isabelle, the first would fall painfully behind.

Isabelle had the elegance, grace and manners of a lady where the redhead only had fire. He did not know how his wife had acquired these qualities only found in the nobility seeing the life she surely had to have lived, but they seemed the most natural thing in the world to her.

As they made their way towards the entrance, Guy turned to his man and said: "I want you to return to Nottingham as soon as possible and gather a few men together and scatter the area between Locksley and the inn where we have been yesterday.". The man nodded. "The money must be somewhere in that area. Neither of them left the inn with it.".

The man nodded again. It was what he had thought. He knew what he had to do, so he bowed quickly and left.

After Shepard had left and Guy had been shown to his room, he quickly changed and made his way to the dining hall.

The 'Scarlett Crown' was nothing like the inn where Guy had stopped the night before. Luxury and light surrounded him every where he went in this grand place and people no longer starred as he made his way towards the table that the master-of-ceremonies had reserved for him. He was still a very important person, even in London, but that was no cause for excitement as it had been the night before, for the 'Scarlett Crown' was packed with barons, earls and the likes … Even Prince John had been known to come here on various occasions.

"I have reserved you this table, Sir Guy", the man said as he drew the chair for Guy to sit. "It is isolated for privacy but offers the best view of the entire hall … So if you see anyone you like, tell me and I'll see what I can do …", the man said with a accomplice smile.

It was unusual for a man to be alone at the 'Scarlett Crown' so the man just assumed that Gisborne was looking for some company for the night … and this was a place where the staff took care of every need that the guests might have … for as immoral or damn right ridiculous it might have been.

The man made sure that the table and the wine were to Gisborne's liking after which he withdrew to his usual place from where he could observe the entire room and see if anyone was in need of him.

Guy sat quietly drinking his wine in the darkness of his position. He did not look up for he had too many things that occupied his mind. He thought of everything that had happened in the past year.

A year ago he thought the only woman he would ever want for a wife was Lady Marian of Knighton Hall and the satisfaction he had had the moment she had accepted him, had overwhelmed him as he could well recall. Then that day came … that wretched day when she left him at the altar.

He damned her … He dammed her to hell for having done that. Love was no longer the reason behind his curses against Marian but if she had married him that day, his eyes would have never seen the which that had managed to blow him to pieces …

How had he gotten here? … to this place? … His beginnings had been peaceful and loving … Nothing would have recommended him as a butcher and murderer … But years of rage and loss had changed what had been once the truth … And now he was about to kill the only thing he had truly ever cared about … and with her, his own heart would die. He was sure of it. There could not be room for redemption after this.

"Ah! But Miss Campbell. I never dance!", an aggravated man's voice interrupted Guy's thoughts. It was overly stylish to belong to any real man, Guy thought. It was probably a rich, old lord that carried salts against fainting in his pocket.

"I say you do …so you will.", a soft, confident woman's voice responded.

This made Guy look up instantly. He had heard that reply once before, in the Hall of Nottingham Castle and that sweet, low voice that had convinced him to dance that night was unmistakable.

There she was …His wife, his which… and she was even more beautiful then he remembered. But her stature, her manner of talking and looking was so different, Guy observed.

As the man, that Guy recognized now as Christopher of Winkle, was circling her trying to please her in the smallest details, pulling her chair, ordering the servants around to impress her, she did not seem pleased. She mostly seemed bored.

"What a ridiculous spectacle …", Guy thought amused looking at what was one of the most influential man at court and that had now been reduced to a pet in desperate need of pleasing his mistress … "But then again, she does have that effect on men …", Guy thought bitterly wondering if there had been people who had made fun of him quite in the same way.

"Oh, Christopher!", she finally said aggravated. "Stop fretting and sit down", she ordered only to be obeyed instantly. "And stop behaving that way towards the servants", she said in a slightly lower voice playing with his collar. "God knows what they will put in your food now …", she concluded amused and started playing with one of the locks of her dark hair, as Winkle watched her almost transfixed.

Guy could not help do the exact same thing, as foolish as it might have seemed. He was stealing glances of his own wife and feeling as if he was seeing her for the first time. She was wearing a black dress. That color was only worn for mourning but she had obviously rebelled against the rule. And she looked devastating … The dress had a multitude of small pearls sown into it and from the distance they sparkled and created the image of rain. The dress had a long collar that had been closed tightly but the back offered a much more appealing sight … From the shoulders to the waist it was covered in a black, transparent material that gave the most delicious, daring view of her naked back.

Guy had never examined a woman's clothing before, since he had been much more interested with what was under it but he had seen no one dressed like this. The women that had usually caught his attention had been either nobles or whores. The first dressed in a conservative and decent manner and the latter dressed in a vulgar style as if to display what they could offer. He had never met a woman that managed to combine the two so perfectly, but she had managed it.

She was sensual and provocative but somehow managed to avoid becoming common place.

Guy could no longer hear what they were saying for he was watching her so closely. She was very much at ease, taunting Winkle, giving him reason after reason to get close to her and pulling away at the last moment. It was a seductive game that was played with a plan in mind. Guy could tell. She wanted something and was playing Winkle for it.

Guy had to admire her skill. She was subtle enough as to not let on what her true intentions were, but she still managed to get the point across. And it was working beautifully. Winkle was lost … By the end of the night, Guy was sure she would have whatever it was she wanted.

"And quite a bit more", Guy thought with a cruel, half smile.

This final thought managed to get him out of his meditative state and turn his gaze from her and towards the master-of-ceremonies whom he summoned with a quiet gaze.

The man arrived instantly. "Yes, my lord?"

"Who is that woman who sits over there?", Guy asked pointing at the table that was placed in the middle of the room.

"Oh, that is Miss Campbell … She sits with Lord Winkle", he added trying to suggest that the lady was already occupied.

"Yes … I know Lord Winkle. He's an old friend", Guy responded. "Is he staying here?"

"Oh! No, sir", the man replied amused. "He usually escorts Miss Campbell to her room after which he makes his way home …in the opposite side of town", the man continued. Lord Winkle was known for splitting the town in half: on one side he took his mistresses and on the other was his wife … Lady Winkle was very rich and came from one of the oldest families in England. Most of her husband's fortune and influence came from her and she would not look kindly upon rumors that her husband was making a fool of her by showing off his ladies.

"And in which room is the lady staying?", Guy asked simply still looking at his beautiful wife as she sipped her wine and touched Winkle softly on the leg. The man laughed out loud like a teen-ager.

"My lord,", the man began awkwardly … "I can not reveal such information …".

Guy reached for his pocket, took three gold coins out and placed them on the table … "The number".

The man gathered the coins quickly and told Guy the information that he needed to know. Guy stood up from the table and was gone.

"But, my dear", Winkle's voice pleaded, "I do not have that kind of money!"

"Oh, but my dear … you do", she answered confidently as she released her arm from his hand and headed for the stairs that were leading to her room, alone. She pretended she was upset and offended …

"I do not know where you have gotten such information from … but I can assure …", Winkle tried again reaching for her arm.

She pulled it away quickly, turned around to face him and started coming down the stairs closer to him in a menacing way … "Christopher,", she said in a low voice with her mouth moving very close to his and looking into his eyes .. She had learned this trick from Guy …and she knew full well the effect that it had … "do not treat me like a fool. I know you have money … and I know how much of it you have …". Winkle tried to object again but she put her finger over his mouth …"The proprieties in Bedford and Brentwood …The market place that you practically control …I know about it all!", she said in a soft whisper.

Winkle could resist no longer so he softly kissed her finger and then made a move for her mouth. She quickly pulled away and started climbing the stairs once more.

"But, my dear", Winkle replied running to get closer to her even if at his age and weight it was hardly appropriate … "Consider … Most of the money is my wife's .. She will not approve".

"I'm sure she will … She is, from what I have heard, a very clever woman", she replied making her way through the narrow corridor, hurrying her steps only to hear Winkle panting behind her as he tried to keep up. This amused her terribly. There had been no one that she despised more deeply than this pathetic creature … She found it especially hard to be close to him after she had found out what a man should truly be like.

That thought made her shake her head and quickly remove it from her mind. Winkle had a lot of money and she needed a good portion of it. That was the important thing.

"The spices and essences trade is very productive and I need a partner in my venture", she said as she placed her hand on the knob and looked back at Winkle.

"Well, then there must be several rich men interested in investing", Winkle bluffed.

This made her frown … "Well, then … I will make sure to be in their company and not yours … Good night, Lord Winkle and thank you for your attentions. I will on longer accept them." She opened the door, entered her room and tried to close it but Winkle had already stepped half-way through it with a desperate look on his face…

"No, no … please", he pleaded, "That is not what I meant. Of course I will invest."

She was very pleased by his response but did not let on. The bigest mistake she could make with this one was to make him confident. She had to keep him in a constant state of tension if she was to get what she wanted. She just let go of her hold on the door and allowed Winkle to enter.

The maid had already litted some of the candles and the room had been left in a quite romantic state. But her mood was not romantic at all.

She started walking towards the window, her back to the door as two hands came from behind and attempted to open the buttons placed on her neck.

She shoved them aside and turned around with a ironic smile … "What are you doing?"

"Now, dear … be nice to me. I am an old man in need of kindness", Winkle said softly, looking at her with a longing gaze.

It almost made her vomit the way this man was begging … not knowing it was exactly that which made him receive nothing. "A man takes what he wants, you fool! He does not beg for it", she thought … but she did not say that.

"Kindness?", she replied with a mocking laugh … "All right …undo my dress", she said with a tolerant voice.

The man quickly submitted opening the buttons one at the time, hungry for more until he got to the edge of her cleavage where she stopped him.

"That is enough", she said in a hard voice. "Now leave. I am tired and you bore me", she added in a slightly softer voice as if it was a joke.

Then she turned away and headed for a screen that had been placed in the middle of the large room .

"No, please!", Winkle replied playfully. "I'll behave. I'll just sit and watch …", he said as he sat down on the bed that offered a direct view of the screen that she was now behindof.

"What is it you want to watch?", she asked in a cruel manner popping her head from behind the screen and then pulling away quickly.

"You want to see me taking this off?", she asked throwing the dress over the screen.

"Oh, yes …", Winkle said with pure desire.

"And this?". A sock flew over the screen.

"Yes …", Winkle whispered as his eyes widened

"And this?", she continued in the same mocking way throwing the other delicate sock over the screen.

Winkle gasped slightly … "Yes …."

"And this?", she asked throwing the last piece of clothing … a skirt that had been placed under the dress. "And reveal myself to you naked?", she taunted him.

"Yes", Winkle finally managed to say in a hoarse voice.

And then she came out from behind the screen, and the look of anticipated desire was immediately gone from Winkle's face. She had come out fully clothed in a white undershirt that reveled nothing and concealed her from neck to toe.

"Now you must really leave …", she said in a soft voice. "For I am tired and in need of rest", and pulled him off the bed and on his feet.

"No …", he whined … "No …"

"Yes", she said in a confident manner pushing him towards the door.

"No …", he tried again.

"Yes", she said in the same voice, this time pushing him out the door and closing it in his face and bolting it for the night.

Through the door she could still hear his whines and ridiculous compliments, so she could no longer repress a soft laugh as she moved from the door. "Ah! Departure is such sweet sorrow!"

Guy had watched the entire scene unfold from the bathing chamber and could not help but feel amused by Winkle's behavior. He was such an easy pray and she knew it. It was obvious the man had no way with women and that he was clearly over his head with his …

His woman .. he watched her as she made her way with lazy, undulating movements first to the table where she poured herself a generous amount of wine which she drank in an instant and then to the mirror, where she sat down and slowly began pulling down the pins from her hair.

From her present position she could not see him, so he came out of the bathing chamber quietly and started walking towards her with soft, well controlled movements as if he was about to catch a prized animal.

"Oh, Robert …", she broke the silence as she started moving her hands through her hair and keeping her eyes into the ground.

By now Guy was standing behind her., so he bent over and put his mouth next to her ear: "Hello, Isabelle!"

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Hope you have enjoyed this chapter and that the story is still managing to keep your interest ... As always I am waiting for your reviews which make me very happy!!!!!!!! 


	14. Chapter 13: Remember me?

Hi! Hope the wait was not too long and that this chapter makes up for it :). Now ... fair to tell you that this chapter has its share of violence ...I repeated the last line from chapter 12 just in case you had forgotten ... :) As always, thank you for reading are reviewing ... and keep at it:)

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Chapter 13 – Remember me?

"Hello, Isabelle!"

The sound of his voice sent a swift current through her entire body, raising the hairs on her back and making her heart beat out of her chest. His breath fell slowly and hot over her neck again and again, until her whole body started shivering under his mouth. He was here! He had found her!

She did not know what to do. When she had left, she had thought she would never see him again and that made her soul cry out in pain … but now that she thought about it better she should have known that he would find her. He was not a man that resigned himself to losing.

She did not know what to feel. Somehow, having him so near made her happy and peaceful as she had not been since she had left Locksley. She wanted to extend her arms back, her whole body even and embrace him. She wanted to touch his mouth and breath him in. "I've longed for you, my love!", she thought sadly, but she knew that was a impossible event … For he had not come here to find his love. He had come for vengeance … for death.

She wondered if crying and begging him not to kill her would be the right course. Would that make him show mercy?

But she already knew the answer to that question … That would only make him kill her faster. She had to at least appear brave and try to gain his respect, although she was not sure that would work either. She had used him and treated him ill. She did not know what she could say to ease the pain of betrayal from his heart … So, she did what she always did in these situations. She put on the mask of cool, collected indifference even if her mind was burning.

She looked up in the mirror, and through it straight into his eyes and in doing so dropped the pins she had been holding in her hand, for his eyes were cold and filled with a rage that she had not seen in him, not even that day under the tree. She could not concentrate on anything else on his face, just his eyes … and that cruel half smile he put on whenever he had gotten what he wanted, but that she knew meant so much more …Looking into his face would put an end to her mask so she dropped her eyes back on to the table.

"Surely … you must remember me …", he said mockingly in her ear, forcing her to look up once more.

He could not tell what she was thinking, She had her enigmatic face on. He had seen it in Locksley as well but here it was even more undecipherable. She seemed peaceful and she slowly touched her lips over and over again as if in deep meditation. She wanted to appear untroubled by him, but Guy knew better. His hand that was now resting heavily on her shoulder detected her pulse … and it was beating out of control. But she had more self control then he had seen in a long time … He had to give her that.

"Who is Robert?", he asked with the same smile for he knew the answer but the question caused her to flinch … It was barely detectable but now he was so concentrated on every sign from her that he sensed it immediately.

She looked at him through the same mirror that had now become the only barrier between them and tilted her head back and in doing so raised one of her eyebrows. This, she knew, made her seem in control and sure of herself. "Just a man …", she responded quizzically.

This made him release her and come round, to sit in front of the mirror. She now had no choice but to look straight at him, as he folded his arms and leaned against the dressing table. He reigned over her as she sat on the chair feeling increasingly small and weak. She knew that even if his rage was now making him in control and strong, somewhere inside of him he was still vulnerable to her. Could she reach that place? "That is the only thing that could save you", said the little surviving voice inside her. But she did not know how to reach that place. He was so much like her that she knew he had shoved that part of him so deep down that it was almost impossible to get to at this particular moment.

"Must be quite a few men in your life", he broke the silence looking down on her. "Robert …me …Winkle".

The names dropped on her like stones. He had no idea how wrong he was to put himself in the same place with her executioner and a buffoon.

"Did you marry all of them?", he asked mockingly dropping his head to the left so he could look at her better.

She gave him no satisfaction …She raised her chin up and responded simply: "No, just you …"

This made him give her a bitter smile. Was that supposed to be a love declaration? He had been the only fool that had married her …That was the truth. He leaned over closer to her until he reached her ear and whispered heavily: "Liar!".

He had not meant it only for these last words she had spoken, but for every word she had ever told him. For all of them had been lies.

His approach made her flinch and this time she could not conceal it. This closeness and the wolfish way he had of talking so close to her mind, it seemed, made her lose all self control so she quickly pushed her chair backwards to get away. This made the floor give out a terrible noise that only increased the tension making it even more real.

"So …", she asked decisively, " … what?"

He frowned … "What?", he asked mockingly …

She nodded … "Yes … What is it? Why are you here?", she asked getting increasingly impatient. She knew it was a grave mistake but she could no longer help it.

This made him tilt his head back slightly … "Ahhh …You want to know why I'm here", he repeated. He knew that the longer she waited for an answer, the more she would get out of control. And he was now relishing in her agony. He said nothing but continued looking at her with the same cold, meditative look.

"Hmmm …", she said once more biting her lower lip in frustration.

"Well …", he began getting closer to her once more and dropping down to level their positions … "I've just come here to kill you", he said in a simple, informative manner taking out his dagger.

She looked at him as he moved the dagger from one hand to the other and could not help let out a: "Ahhh …". It was meant to sound more of confirmation, but it sounded broken and desperate. She had known that was the reason, but hearing him say it was just too much.

She let out a small, nervous laugh after which she bit her lip once more, for it was the only way she could stop herself. She looked into his eyes. The same eyes that had held her with such love. His hands … the same hands that had caressed and chased her demons away. They were now about to kill her and all she could think about was what it felt like having them around her body … and how much she had missed them …"So …", she asked, "we're here, aren't we?". "How did you get here?", she wanted to ask him, but she knew the answer. She had gotten them there.

"All right!", she finally said. "Do it!", she dared him with a cold voice.

He looked at her half amused. Had she had enough of their little game? He had not. He had planned on coming here and killing her. But now … now that he was in front of her, he wanted answers and then there was another problem that he could not admit to …

Even in her white undershift … her hair loose, she was still the most beautiful creature he had ever seen, and her increasingly quicker way of breathing was making her chest rise and fall and he could not help but notice her breasts under it. He had a painful need to touch them. His hands were almost burning for it. He wanted her beneath him, quivering.

He chased those thoughts away … He had come here to kill her.

All of a sudden her hands reached out and took his own …the hand that was holding the dagger and placed it on the base of her neck. "There!", she said. "There is my neck. Don't hesitate …". Still he did nothing. "Do it", she repeated rising her voice slightly.

"What have you done with my money?", he asked.

"It was not your money.", she answered impulsively. "It was Isabelle's", she added mockingly.

This made him strike her over the face. It was a quick, swift blow … but enough to unbalance her and make her face burn red.

"You never talk to me like that again!", he said menacingly watching as her eyes open wider filled now with terror.

The strike made her wake up. Everything she had done up to that point seemed a dream. But this … this was reality. His dagger on the base of her neck and his imprint on her face. Swallowing become hard all of a sudden.

"She told you about the money, didn't she?", he asked rising his voice. She nodded quickly. "And then you murdered her …"

That made her look at him appalled … "No!", she shouted. "I told him … and then he said he would take her to a nunnery and I was to take her place", she added quickly. She did not want him believing that of her. She would never kill anyone over money. "She's dead?", she finally asked.

This had been the first time she had openly talked about him and it was what finally made Guy explode. He grabbed her arm violently and pulled her up to face him. "A man?", he asked through his teeth. He knew all of this, and everything he did not know he could guess … but he wanted to hear it from her.

"Yes …", she answered looking away from him.

He grabbed her face quickly with his hand and turned it around to look into her eyes. "Accomplice … friend … lover?", he enumerated shouting.

In that moment she felt an acute need to lie. She did not want to tell him that Robert was her lover, although she knew he had figured that out on his own but her accepting it was yet another barrier between them. "Accomplice …", she answered softly looking into his eyes pleading with him.

Another hand came crushing down on her cheek and he released her arm in disgust.

They were both now breathing hard, him looking at her in anger and her seating but a few steps away looking into the ground and feeling the burn that his hand had left on her. "You know him also …", she began in a slightly more composed voice, " … as Huntington. He is the man you saw that day by the tree …"

The memory of that day, of the way she had manipulated him, of the guilt he had felt at threatening her … now fueled his anger and desire for revenge even further. Still he let her continue.

"My friend", she said slowly, "my accomplice" … then looking into his eyes as tears were now rolling from her own … "My lover", she finally acknowledged nodding and grasping for air still looking into his eyes begging him with her gaze to forgive her.

No comfort was shown from Guy's frozen, blue eyes as they stared her down like a wounded animal …The words had hit him in his gut as hard as a punch of steel. There would be no forgiveness … There would be no redemption.

"We were just actors", she started giving him what he was expecting, speaking the words that were in his head. "Just actors playing parts", she added with a bitter smile. But she could not let go yet … She had to tell him the truth … "I told him that day …I told him I didn't want any part in it anymore …", and then looked away from him. Would he believe her?

What was this? Was this a clever way of manipulating him once more? He steped closer to her and grabed her by the neck pushing her towards the wall, where he finally crushed her against it … "Why not?", he bellowed in her face through his teeth.

"Because …", she screams back desperately, '"because I was falling in love with you.".

Yet another hand strikes her over the face, and then another. "Liar!", he bellows out and throws her to the ground.

She falls on her hands and knees where she remains, dropping entirely on the floor being too exhausted to stand up as he starts circling around her.

Her breathing begins to quicken and awful noises start coming out of her chest ...noises that she can no longer repress.

He drops down and grabs her face to look at her. That is when she starts hitting him, becoming increasingly nervous. This catches him off guard and he releases her face … yet she does not stop … "Damn you!", she screams out. "I could have bought him off!". Finally she says it. This is what she had wanted to tell him all this time. "I could have kept him away! But you left me alone with him", she accuses him and hits him over the chest again and again … "But you had to go into the forest … After her!", she bellows out. "After Marian!", she screams and hits him once more.

This made him increasingly angry. She was now blaming him for her betrayal. And what did Marian have to do with anything? He grabs both her arms and starts shaking her violently, striking her again … "Whore, thief … liar". He does not know what else to tell her so he pulls out the knife once more and places it on her neck, pressing it slightly and leaving a mark that soon enough starts to bleed.

"It's how I live!", she screams desperately looking down. "It's all I know". She wanted him to understand. "I steel the money and then I give it to him " … "And then I run away!", she adds.

He could not hear her anymore. His anger was too loud. Nothing seemed to get through anymore.

"It doesn't matter …", she finally said resigned as she looked at him once more. She knew she could no longer reach him . He was gone …

All he could think about was his pain. All he had suffered in the weeks since she had left. The way she had abandoned him. Her image in bed with Huntington kept appearing over and over again and his rage was too great for mercy … "Whore! Thief! Liar!", he says again as he grabs her arms once more …

"Yes … yes … yes …", she screams back in rage. That is what she was. "I love you …", she says slowly only to be struck over the face …The power of this blow made her lose her balance and drop to the side with her head down … "It is the truth", she persisted … "I love you!", she repeated it .

"Shut up!", he orders. How dare she tell him that?

"But I do!". He had to know as much. For what it was worth now, she loved him.

This made him grab her by the arm and bring her back up to look in her face that was now covered in tears. Locks of her hair were pressed against her face because of the contact with the water on her face. The little cut on her neck was now bleeding slowly covering the collar of her shift with blood. Her eyes were pleading as he placed his dagger against her neck once more.

"I'm sorry!", she finally said closing her eyes.

This seemed to work better because the dagger was slowly removed.

"What game are you playing?", he asked looking at her. There were no more pleads, no request for mercy. He did not understand it.

She opened her eyes … "No game …", she said calmly.

Before he knew what he was doing he grabbed her once mare and brought her closer to him. "It is a game!", he said through his teeth. "But do not think there will be dignity in your death!", he screams as he brings the dagger closer to her body only to feel her shivering.

But instead of putting it against her neck, he drags it through the material of her shift from the neck down to her waist. Then using his hand rips it open and throws it away, leaving her naked.

As he did all this, she did not move. She looked at him, wondering what he was thinking, but soon enough the coldness of the floor against her naked skin made her shiver …

He had not thought of the effect that her naked body would have on him. He had only thought about humiliating her in this way, but he had forgotten how lovely she was. The smoothness of her white skin, the round shapes of her body almost made him cry out. And on top of all this stood it …The elimination of her shift had revealed that under it and around her neck she had it … the necklace. The necklace he had given her.

"Why did she not sell it?", was the only question going through his head at that moment.

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Sorry about the cliffhanger ... but it would have been a very long chapter and there would have also been a new plot introduced and I much more like it as it is :) 


	15. Chapter 14: Bloody dawn

Ok ... chapter 14 and I have to say it has been the hardest chapter I've written so far and I'm going to have to rate it a **MA** because it does contain a rather explicit sexual scene. And I am happy to inform you that for now, at least, I'm done with the cliffhangers:) Hope you enjoy and remember reviews equal love!

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Chapter 14 – Bloody dawn 

The sight of the necklace he had placed with such love on the same neck he had now intended to slit open, made his decision to kill her vanish.

The necklace was not only a reminder of the moments they had spent together, that meant nothing to Guy anymore for he knew full well all of them had been lies, but it was also proof of the love he felt for another human being. It was a love that had managed to destroy every good thing inside him but if he did this now there would be no getting his soul back.

"Surely", he reasoned, "killing the only thing you have ever loved kills you as well". And she was not worth that kind of sacrifice. Of course, there was the matter of her naked body making his resolve crumble.

He could see that she was now trembling. The floor was cold and the room, as well, was a bit drafty. Guy could feel it even if he was wearing his usual thick, leather garments. It was obvious that she was cold, but that somehow only increased his desire.

The spasms her body was producing made her body undulate and somehow come to life. He was weak to her still … But the fact that he wanted her did not eliminate his desire for revenge. If anything, it increased it.

He wanted to punish her for lying to him, for making a fool of him, for dishonoring him … for leaving him …for what she was and, especially, for still being weak at the sight of her beautiful body.

Suddenly he threw the knife on the floor and away from him. There would be no killing tonight. The sound made by the knife made her flinch and her eyes, that had never left him, widened.

He stood up and folded his arms, looking down on her. "Get up!", he ordered in a cruel, cold voice.

The way he was speaking to her scared and angered her at the same time. It was the way of addressing a slave, someone inferior to him … and she rebelled against this tone of his voice. But, still, she thought it best to obey him. He was not a man to be crossed that night, and she had many things that needed to be forgiven.

So she stood up and sustained his look of steel at the best of her abilities. It was a strong attitude, but not as strong as she would have liked. After all, she had just barely escaped death so she was more then a little affected. But she knew that she would need all the strength she could gather up for what was going to happen next. From the look in his eyes she could tell he had not forgiven nor believed her and he still wanted revenge, but she was unsure as to the actual means that would be implemented. "Is it going to be torture? Humiliation? … Both?" She took a deep breath and tried to reconcile herself with what was about to come.

Guy looked at her as if she was a possession, a good that belonged to him and that he was now evaluating. She was beautiful, but this he knew already. She had given him pleasure. He could remember that well enough. "So, wife …", he finally spoke in a dominating manner. "It is been six weeks in which you have denied me my wrights. It is time for me to claim them. Don't you think so?", he asked mockingly razing his eyebrows and started moving closer to her.

Now she understood. The thought of what he was about to do, scared her so she started moving away from him. It was not a very fortunate thought because soon enough her calves hit the edge of the bed. The sudden surprise made her lose her balance and fall on the bed. He had gotten her exactly where he wanted.

Before she could have a chance to move he caught one of her ankles and griped it violently as she tried to get up. "Sit still!", he ordered.

His voice left no room for disobedience so she froze, even if he released her. She sat and looked as he opened his sword belt and then unfastened the laces of his breeches, revealing himself to her fully aroused.

"Guy, please …", she tried to plead with him.

"My lord …", he corrected her as his hands dragged her body closer to him.

"What?", she didn't understand. Her mind could not make sense of anything anymore. Only of the fact that what he was about to do would make their relationship tainted.

"From now on, you will never call me by my name again. That wright is only reserved for women of noble blood … not common whores", he replied cruelly as he pushed her thighs open and held her fully open to him.

She tried to move and get away from that mocking gaze that he was now inflicting on her. She did not want this! "My lord …", she began desperately, "please don't do this!". "Do anything you want to me but not this!", she begged.

He smiled cruelly. This was far better then a swift move of his knife. He could see that clearly now. She was scared and humiliated and he was going to make this as hard and painful as he possibly could. "Well, I thought that since I am married to a harlot", he underlined the word only to see her eyes protest, "I should enjoy the only thing that women like you are good for", he concluded as he moved his hand higher up her thigh and squeezing parts of her flesh until he finally heard her scream back in pain.

She saw as he was preparing himself to enter her and she tried to move again. "Please, don't!", she pleaded. "I'm not ready …", she tried to explain …

"Oh .. but, wife …", he replied mockingly as he placed his hands tightly around her hips, stopping her from moving … "As you can see, I am more then ready …". And with that he pushed into her with one swift, deep thrust that sent shivers down his spine and made her cry out in pain.

His long, deep, violent movements inside her sent sharp shootings through her entire body and seemed to travel straight into her mind. If he would have allowed her to move, she could at least move in the same rhythm as him and that would lessen the pain. But he had pinned her down with his hands and his iron grip did not let go, holding tighter and tighter. The only things she was able to do was arch her back from time to time and gasp for air every time his body crushed into hers, which did nothing to ease the event. Still, she did it and closed her eyes tightly as tears started falling from her eyes.

"Am I hurting you?", Guy asked with pretended care noticing her tears.

"Damn you!" was what she wanted to tell him at that particular moment but she did not. "Yes …", she answered instead looking into his eyes with bitterness.

He smiled contented by her response. "Good!" and pushed into her once again only to see her grasping the sheet with her hands until they became white.

Guy had to concentrate all his muscles into making the affair last longer and make it as violent as he possibly could. Still he was ready to cave more then once. But seeing her response fueled him to go on. She was so vulnerable to him now, in a primal, animal way that appeased his anger slightly. She was now as weak to him as he had once been to her.

She kept her eyes closed tightly and that angered him. He did not want her imagining her way out of this. "Look at me!", he ordered.

She opened her eyes and tried to keep them as dignified as possible. Still in the present situation, it was not working too well.

He leaned over to meet her gaze and whispered: "I want to be sure you know it is me!", he said as he continued his movements.

Her mind was not working anymore. All she could focus on was the pain and his breath falling on her cheeks as he started moving his mouth closer to hers. She stretched her neck back to meet his lips but he pulled away. He was toying with her.

Guy pulled away and in doing so slowed down his movements. He had been in serious danger of kissing her. And that was something he could not do for it meant putting an end to his punishing plans. Once he would kiss her, he could no longer resist. But seeing the look of frustration and hurt on her face when he had denied her his mouth, made him realize how much she desired it. So he closed in and took one of her breasts into his mouth, using his tongue over her nipple again and again until he heard her give a small sound. This, he knew well, was not a sound of pain but of pleasure. So he bit her nipple as hard as he could, almost making it bleed. This made her flinch and start using her arms to push him away. He had tricked her once more.

He finally removed his mouth and body from hers and with a horse laugh of triumph resumed his violent movements once more until his whole body shuttered and he let himself go deep down inside her. Then he collapsed on the bed next to her. It had been a strenuous ritual but worth every effort for now he could hear her sobbing next to him. But somewhere inside what he really wanted was to gather her up into his arms and wipe the tears he had caused away. "Damn her!", he thought. "Damn her to hell!". Must he love her so? He had finally gotten what he had wanted but he could not shake the feeling of guilt from his heart. Her sobs and soft gasps for air were piercing his soul. But he was decided not to cave into his weakness. "Go get me wine, woman!", he ordered nudging the numb body that sat next to him.

After he had finished, she could fully grasp the damage he had done. She felt sore and closing her legs together had taken a great deal of willpower as it was so painful. Her thighs and hips were burning and the imprints of his hands were still visible. Her breasts were red from the biting and through all that her desire had remind unfulfilled.

But that was nothing. Pain like this she had experienced before. That she could cope with. It was the pain he had caused inside her that was the most terrible. She felt wounded in her pride and in her heart. And that kind of pain, she knew well, would not go away.

His words brought her back. They were hard and cruel and she had to gather up the strength to stand up. Her whole body trembled as her feet made contact with the ground. She had to sit on the edge of the bed for a moment just to shake off the dizziness. Finally she managed to make her way to the table where she poured him a goblet of wine with trembling hands.

When she gave him the wine, Guy could see how disheveled and pale she looked. Still she kept her proud eyes. As she moved slowly through the room blowing out the candles, he saw how slowly she moved. He realized that walking at this point was quite painful. All he wanted to do was run to her, beg her forgiveness and carry her back to the bed. In protest to his own thoughts he pulled the linen of the sheets away, took his clothes off and got into bed with his back to her. Still when he felt the other side lower under her weight and felt the warmth of her body against his own he could not help the burning sensation in his entrails.

It was the break of day and she had not slept all night. She was now sitting in bed with her head against the wall, looking over to her husband that was in deep sleep. During the night he had twitched and moved and he was now face up and spread over most of the bed. He had always occupied more then his fair share of the bed, even at Locksley but there she had been included as his hands were all over her from the moment they would fall asleep to the moment he would wake up. No such thing had occurred the night before and she had gathered her legs to her chest holding them tightly and resting her chin on them in order to give him as much unoccupied space as possible.

Her body still hurt from the events of the night before and every instinct in her body told her that the smart thing to do was to pack her things while he lay sleeping and leave him now that she still had the chance.

All her life, that surviving voice that was louder in her then in other people had been stronger then her desires and had convinced her to do things that she did not want and even things she deeply felt ashamed for. All this in the nae of survival. But now, with just looking at him that voice was silenced.

He looked tired, she observed. He had large bags under his eyes and he had a rather pale complexion, from not sleeping enough, she thought, and from too much wine, no doubt. The lines on his face were more visible and his stubble was thicker then usual. His dark hair fell disheveled on his face and the sight of his chest rising and falling sent a sudden sensation of desire through her entire body. He was still the most handsome man she had ever seen.

Despite her pride and her better judgment, she wanted to touch his face desperately and move the hair from his face, so she extended her hand and attempted to place it on his cheek. Midway through Guy's hand came out of nowhere and caught her wrist, stopping her.

"What are you doing?", he asked in a hard voice rising slightly from the bed and looking at her with suspicion.

"Nothing …", she answered annoyed pulling her hand away. She wondered how much longer he would inflict this estrangement on her. They had been so close at one point that it was impossible for her to be indifferent to his coldness.

He looked at her ironically so she quickly looked away. She did not want to fight with him, even if she was sure he would find a way of provoking her.

"It occurres to me, wife …", Guy said mockingly laying down again and putting his arm under his head in a relaxed manner, "that we have been married for more then four months now and I do no know your name. Don't you think that is taking your maiden sensibilities a tad far?", he asked ironically watching as she turned her head towards him again.

"It's Josephine", she answered simply.

The name surprised him ... He had expected something along the lines of Mary or Annie ... or whatever names peasants usually gave each other. But Josephine? "It sounds French …", he said looking into the ceiling with pretended indifference. "Where were you born?".

This sent a sharp blow through her body. She was now about to tell him the whole truth about her. She had wanted to do it in another situation, when he would have been less inclined to mock her pain but as it was she had no choice.

"I don't know where I was born …", she began. "But I grew up at the St George Abbey, in Somerset."

"Is that your Christian name?", Guy continued in the same indifferent manner.

"It would be … if I were baptized … which I'm not …"

This caught Guy's attention as the idea of meeting someone who had not been baptized seemed ridiculous. And even more so when it was his own wife. It was not enough that she was a harlot but also a heathen?!? What tricks was God playing on him?

Josephine noticed the look of surprise in Guy's eyes and she could guess what he thought of her but memories from her past came up tumbling over her and she had to speak. "When I was five one of the monks from the Abbey allowed me to carry his bags as we went out into the market. While walking there", she continued with a bitter smile that made Guy ache, "a noble woman passed before me. I had never seen anyone dressed in such fine clothes or that smelled like that ... of rose petals and soap." Her eyes were now glowing at the thought of that woman she had seen so long ago."And as she walked, people got out of her way, making room for her, bowing slightly". "And then she was gone", she concluded suddenly coming back to reality and looking into Guy's eyes once more. "I asked one of the merchant who she was and he said it was 'Lady Josephine'. I decided then and there that I was going to be like her one day and when I achieved it, I took the name", she finished her story leaving Guy speechless.

The woman he was married to was a complete mystery. "And what was your name before that?", he finally asked recovering from his shock.

"I didn't have one", she replied annoyed.

"Everyone has a name!", he insisted.

"Well, I didn't …", she concluded dropping on her pillow and folding her arms in annoyance. "I was a number", she thought bitterly.

Just as Guy was preparing to taunt her again, determined not to let her have the last word, there was a soft knock on the door.

Josephine flinched and rose slightly only to be pulled down again by Guy's iron grip on her arm. "Are you expecting someone?", he asked forcing her to look at him.

"No …", she answered honestly.

"My dear … it is me. Your loving and adoring admirer. Your love-sick puppy …", Winkle's voice could be heard through the door.

Guy gave Josephine a cold, condemning look as she closed her eyes. This was the last thing she needed right now. That ridiculous buffoon!

Guy rose from the bed forcing her to do the same. "Go answer the door and let Lord Winkle in", he commanded as he threw her a robe that had been laying on a chair next to the bed.

"My lord, please …", she tried reasoning with him. "He is a very important man at court. His death would cause a scandal…".

Guy looked at her and bursted into a noisy, mocking laugh … "Don't be ridiculous, Josephine", he put an ironic accent on the name, "I am not going to kill a man of Winkle's importance over a harlot like you. Now go open the door!"

The insult made her give him cold look. Then she put her robe on and went to open the door.

As soon as she did, Winkle busted into the room in his usual emphatic manner only to freeze at the sight of a very angry and naked Guy of Gisborne. "What seems to be the problem, my lord?", Guy asked mockingly looking down on the short, fat man.

"My lord Gisborne …", the man replied confused and awkwardly as he looked back at Josephine and then at Guy again, "what are you doing here?"

"I might as well inquire the exact, same thing from you. What are you doing so early in the morning pounding at my wife's door?", Guy responded raising his voice and playing the jealous husband card, which was not that far from the truth.

As the man failed to give an answer, Guy continued … "I see…", he nodded and then looked at Josephine that was now standing somewhere between the two men. "Bring me my sword!", he ordered.

She was quick to comply and quickly brought the sword and placed in Guy's hand, only to see Winkle's eyes widen with terror. This, she had to admit, amused her terribly and she could see Guy was also enjoying himself at the expense of the old fart.

"Your wife?", Winkle finally uttered. "I am sorry. I did not know!", the man tried to excuse himself as he walked backwards towards the door trying to get away from Guy, who was now getting ever closer to him. "I beg your pardon, my lord. I'm a silly, old man. Lets never speak of it again!", he finally uttered as he left the room and the door was slammed in his face.

Guy remained next to the door. This had been a very humiliating position his wife had placed him in and he did not want to face her. Still, she was now standing by his side. "This …", he said looking at her menacingly, "this will be very hard to forgive!", he told her and it was the truth.

She knew it would take a lot to get back to where they had once been but she had to try, for she could not live without him so she put her hand on his shoulder and kissed him softly on the neck. "Tell me what you want me to do". She was giving herself to him.

He smiled wickedly as he moved his hands through her hair, placed them on her shoulders and pushed her down on her knees.

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Hope the story has not gotten too dark for you! 


	16. Chapter 15: Again but not the same

Sorry for taking so long to update! But I hope you like this chapter as I have introduced a new character and Guy's change of look from season two :)). Thank you for reading and reviewing. It means a lot to me!

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Chapter 15 – Again but not the same

That morning he had left her quickly. He had only said: "Pack your things. We leave for Locksley", in the same manner that he had addressed her since he had come back.

She sighed and started moving about the room, trying to think of what to take with her and most importantly of what she was going to do next. She knew she had a long road ahead of her if she wanted him back. Did she really? Could she give him up?

"No!", she said in a harsh, cold voice raising her tone and stopping in the middle of the room. Giving him up was not an option. He belonged to her as much as she did to him. She had put up with what had happened the night before for she knew it was the only way she could manage to get him back. She would have to put up with a lot more. He had to get his vengeance. His self-esteem demanded it. "If you truly want someone you have to be strong enough to do what they need you to do", she reasoned.

She knew there was still hope. She had seen how he still looked at her when he thought she wasn't paying attention. And he was now taking her back home. She had always been a gambling woman when it came to men. It was hard not to be, given her life. And this would be the biggest gamble she would have to make for it would be the first time she was vulnerable to someone.

She pondered this as she looked out of the window to see if there were any signs of him coming back. She knew he could see how weak she was to him and she also knew he would use that against her for as long as he could. He was by all accounts, a formidable opponent and he had one great weapon: she loved him.

"Good morning", Walaa' said in a cheerful voice walking through the door with a trey of fresh food.

The unexpected sound made Josephine flinch and turn around with an aggravated look. "God, woman! How many times do I have to tell you to knock before entering?".

Josephine's voice sounded harsh and very angry but Walaa' was not a woman easily impressed and she was more then accustomed with her mistress's temper. "What the matter?", she asked putting the trey on the table. "Bad night?". She looked up at Josephine with a look of complicity and irony, but she frowned at the sight of her mistress and quickly made her way around the table and grabbed her face. "What the matter?", she asked again. "Why you look pale?". She could see that Josephine did not like her touching her like this and talking to her in this daring manner still she continued. "And why mouth red? What you doing?".

Josephine finally pulled her face and pushed the servant's hand away. She made her way to the dressing table where she sat down and started brushing her hair. She was obviously in no mood to explain things to Walaa'.

But Walaa' was a stubborn woman. She folded her hands and looked at Josephine with a suspicious half look. "Tell me not you and Winkle…".

She was about to continue when Josephine turned to her with a look of ice. It was quickly gone but the servant knew it was time to stop.

"Forget about Winkle", Josephine said looking back in the mirror. "We're done with Winkle …".

"We done?", Walaa' repeated in disbelief. "But …need money!", she added increasingly worried.

"**We **do not need his money any more.", Josephine replied cryptically giving herself a soft smile in the mirror.

The servant did not understand anything. She didn't understand why her mistress looked so disheveled and at the same time seemed happier then she had seen her in weeks. It could not have been Winkle. She knew that much. That man could not manage to extract more then a yawn out of any woman.

Josephine looked at her through the mirror and could see her confusion. It made her give a half grin and look of dangerous excitement as she whispered: "He's here!"

Walaa's eyes widened with terror. "Robert?", she asked impatiently.

Josephine's excited look quickly changed into rage and she spit on the ground as if to chase the thought away. "Bite your tongue!", she ordered in a harsh voice. "Would I be this calm if it would be Robert?", she asked quickly gathering her self control and moving her hands through her hair.

This was something that Walaa had not seen her do in a while. Ever since … Now she understood … "Oh, no!", she said resigned. "The other one …". The look of terror from her eyes was gone but she was not, by any means, happy about the news. Yet her mistress seemed to be. She had to talk some sense into her. "He dangerous!", she said coming closer to her.

"Come now!", Josephine replied in a sweet voice giving her an ironic look. "Is that any way to talk about your new master?"

"Your master!". Walaa' lashed back angry.

Josephine smiled in a tolerant way and continued in the same way: "Whosever master! I require you to obey him" .

"No!", the servant bellowed out. "Why should me?". "That man bad for you. No!"

Josephine listened to a good two minutes of the servants rants until finally her eyes narrowed, her eyebrow rose and her jaw tightened … All signs of anger. She hit the table with her hands violently and silenced the servant. "That is enough!", she ordered starring down Walaa'. "I love him and I want him back! So … we are going back with him to Locksley and that is the end of it!".

The servant sat quietly knowing that her fight was over. Still, her arms were folded and her eyes protested against the idea.

Josephine let her have that much. As quickly as her rage came, in a minute it was gone again and she returned to the mirror analyzing herself. "I'm going to need one of your masks", she said in a pensive way touching her face.

Walaa' made her way to the back of her mistress's chair and placed her hands on her hair. "I make one now …", she said still sulky. She could not help adding: "If he want you beautiful, he have better care of you last night …"

"He was angry …", Josephine replied dismissing the idea.

"He angry a long time …", Walaa' continued rubbing Josephine's temples knowing how much she liked that and that it would make her less likely to snap again.

Josephine did enjoy the massage. She tilted her head from one side to the other, stretching her entire body as if she were a cat. "It is just a phase", she replied confidently as she closed her eyes and rested her head on the back of the chair. "He will get over it and realize we are perfect for each other", she concluded resting her hands on her belly.

"You gone!", Walaa' replied as she removed her hands and made her way out of the room.

"You're bloody hell right I'm gone", Josephine said to herself looking in the mirror once more with a look of mischief and a smile of things to come.

It was two days later and he still had not come. Josephine had changed several dresses while waiting for him. She had written a note to Archie that they were soon to head back to Locksley, for she was sure Guy would not have allowed her to take him openly. She was now seriously doubting that letter … and Walaa' had made more herb masks then she cared to remember.

"He not come!", she would say every time she would put the mixture on her mistress's face.

"Curve your tongue, insolent servant! What do you know of men?", Josephine would bellow out. "He will be here!"

Truth be told she was starting to doubt he was coming. The best proof was that this morning she had not wanted any masks nor had she changed into one of her fancy dresses. She was sitting in a chair with her feet on the table in front of her. She was wearing her night shift and had pinned her hair in a simple tail. Her hands were folded on her chest and she was in a foul mood.

Perhaps he had changed his mind. Perhaps it was his last way of torturing her. Perhaps he had realized he did not love her after all. All the questions were turning her head inside out to the point of madness. "And if he doesn't come?". She could not answer that question. She did not know what she would do if he did not come back. The thought of going on without him was not something she wanted to think about at this particular moment.

"Damn him!", she screamed out hitting the flower vase form the table and smashing it against the opposite wall. When had she become so weak in front of a man?

The sudden break of silence made Walaa' jump up. She had not heard Josephine speak more then five words all morning and this was a reaction she was not expecting.

The water started dripping all over the floor but neither of them attempted to do something about it. Walaa' continued sawing in the corner and Josephine starred into the whiteness of the wall until her eyes hurt.

And then he walked in.

His arrival surprised her but thankfully she still had her self control, so she did not jump up nor did she smile. She simply turned her head around slowly to look at him with one eyebrow raised.

He was different then she had seen him two days earlier. He had shaven and he had cut his hair a little. He was wearing his usual black leather attire and his cold gaze. He looked dark and devastating.

If they had been in, anywhere near, good terms she would have immediately asked him to take his clothes off. As it was she simply looked at him simulating disinterest but still unable to hide a small glim in her eye. He seemed to see it as he leaned into one of the walls and crossed his gloved hands in front of him. He looked as if he had found some kind of peace, she observed.

And it was true. Since Guy had found her, he felt much better. He felt as some vital part that he had been missing had been returned to him. He told himself it was due to the fact that he had finally taken his revenge. It had nothing to do with having her back.

But this new found balance had enabled him to think of other things as well. In these two days he had been at court to check on his relationship with the influent people he and the sheriff were attached to. He had even been received by Prince John himself that had insisted that he take an escort of ten men to accompany him back to Locksley.

All this pleased him immensely. It meant he was still a man of importance and status. But the sight he encountered walking into this room, pleased him even more.

The way she was sitting in the chair, her tail, the simple shift made her look fresh and extremely young. Her daring, proud eyes excited and provoked him. He knew that what he should do was to slap that look right off her face but he could not. This look demanded respect, equal treatment and he felt compelled to give it to her.

"Miss me?", he asked in a soft voice giving her an ironic look which she returned and tilted her head back in a soft, guttural laugh.

Walaa' sat in the corner watching them. She had to admit to herself that she had been more then curious to see who this man that had managed to make her mistress fall in love, was. She had seen Josephine through several of her schemes with men, but none of them had managed to make her anywhere near interested. But this one …When she saw him come in, she started shaking her head. It was worst then she had thought. For the man was as handsome as the devil. And men like that were always bastards.

Looking at both of them now, she could see how well they matched each other. They seemed as two wolves stuck in a bitter struggle between death and love. She feared the outcome of this dangerous dance they were starting.

"I see you've packed", Guy said walking through the room and hitting the travel chest that was filled with clothes and jewelry. "And what have we here?", he asked mockingly as he picked up a piece of clothing and throwing it on the floor. Then a expensive jewel .. then a head piece. More then half of her clothing chest suffered the same fate as he wnet round it and picked them up with the most graceful, slow movements as if to challenge her. Still she said nothing. She simply looked at him.

"It is a pity you are not taking any of them with you …", he finally said stopping in front of her.

This unbalanced her somewhat and she could not keep herself from reacting: "What?"

"Well, you did not actually believe I would allow other men's gifts inside my house and on my wife?", he asked ironically, becoming increasingly rigid.

This made Josephine stand on her feet and frown. "These were not gifts. I bought them myself!", she bellowed out.

The line made Guy burst into a mocking laugh that aggravated her. "Women like you never buy things for themselves", he lashed out. "Harlots usually …", he continued only to be interrupted by Josephine's hand dropping violently on the table.

"I am not a harlot!", she replied.

"And I pray you what is the difference between you and a harlot?", he asked in a rough, violent voice. All safe mockery was gone and he was close to snapping.

But Josephine did not seem troubled by this at the moment. "The difference is, my lord", she began as she started circling the table, "that harlots are only enjoyed during the night. In the day light, they are excluded from society. People point at them as they walk down the street." "When I walk down the street", she said as she leaned against the table, with her chin up and a glim of pride in her eye, "people bow."

This left Guy with no way of responding, so he turned around and made his way back to the door where he had left a bag. "Put this on!", he ordered as he threw the green dress to her.

Josephine looked at the dress in disbelief. She had left it when she ran from Robert. That meant he had been there … In that room … She could only imagine how he must have felt. "I will make it up to you, my love! I promise", she thought.

Again there was silence until Walaa' cam out of the corner. "So … no pack?", she asked Josephine.

"Who is this?", Guy asked as he came close to the two women in a menacing way.

"She is my maid", Josephine responded simply. "She's coming with me."

The confident manner in which she spoke…the fact that she had not asked his permission … All of it made Guy lash out. "No, she is not!"

Walaa' looked scared all of a sudden. What if he did not let Josephine take her? What would become of her then?

"Guy, please", Josephine pleaded knowing that she had made a mistake speaking so confidently earlier.

"My lord!", Guy said through his teeth.

"My lord … please! She has no one but me.", she tried to reason.

"That is touching … but the answer is still no! I will not place a snake in my own house", he said looking at the woman. He could tell she was not much older then his wife and she had been pretty at some point. She had long, dark hair and a rather dark complexion. But there was one thing that starred back angrily and that ruined all that beauty … A huge scar came down her face from her eyebrow, down to her chin passing straight through her eye that was all white. It was obvious she had no sight in it. She looked sacred but was too proud to beg him for mercy. This was a rather strange kind of servant.

"Then I'm not coming either", Josephine replied putting her hands on her hips and starring him straight in the face.

"Isabelle …", he began but quickly stopped. "Josephine", he corrected himself, "do not provoke me! Obey me or …"

"Or what? What?", she lashed back stepping away from him. "You'll kill me? Don't bother", she continued. "I'll do it myself! I'll jump out of this window right now if you do not let me take her!", she said pointing to the window behind her.

He starred at her for a few seconds after which he sat down on one of the chairs looking at her. "Do it!", he challenged with his ussual half smile. "Jump!"

Walaa' closed her eyes and shook her head. The man obviously did not know the mistress. The height was not big enough for her to die, Walaa' reasoned. But she could come to serious harm.

Josephine smiled back at Guy, turned around and opened the window. Then without even looking back she got up on the jamb. She rearranged her position as to face him and leaned back holding on with both hands.

Guy's heart almost stopped as he saw her remove one of her hands from the wall, smile at him and tilt her head back. "Fine", he said in a cold voice and left the room as to avoid her seeing his distress.

Soon enough Josephine and Walaa' made their way out to the stables where they found Guy standing in front of ten armed soldiers. She was wearing the green dress.

He had given her that dress because he secretly wished that she looked the same way the girl at the inn had looked like, and nothing like she looked in his mind. But it was not to be. For she was even more beautiful then he remembered. And her hair … Oh, that hair that he loved so much. It still made wondrous colors in the sunlight, almost inviting him to touch it, to smell it in. But he did not.

As she made her way towards them, Guy could see that he was not the only one fascinated by her. All of the men were now starring at her so intensely that Guy had a sudden urge to punch some sense into them. Still, he did not. He was too preoccupied with the little mischief he had planned for her next. He still felt the need to hurt her and the road home would be a perfect opportunity.

"I have bought you a horse!", he told her and extended his hand.

Josephine was more then a little suspicious at Guy's sudden urge to give her a present but as they made their way to the main road she understood it perfectly. It was a huge, black horse that, by the way the grooms were holding it, had a rather violent temper. "Just like the owner", Josephine thought grinning. "Dangerous, violent and beautiful".

"You like him?", Guy asked dropping his mouth next to her ear. "He did cost me considerably … so I hope you do."

"What you hope …", Josephine whispered turning her mouth as to meet his own, "is that this horse throws me on my back as many times as possible and that I arrive at Locksley all black and blue …". And with that she turned away, directing her steps towards the black beast.

She put her hands on the horse's muzzle and started whispering to him until the animal miraculously clamed down. Then with the greatest of ease she came round, refused the help of the groom and expertly mounted the horse, holding the reigns. "Shall we go?", she asked her husband with a daring smile.

This was no something he expected. Her position in the saddle, the way she had approached the horse … Guy could tell she was not a stranger to these animals. He mounted his own horse a little disappointed and signaled the procession to start moving.

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I will try to get the next chapter in by Sunday!!!!!!!! I hope! 


	17. Chapter 16: Home sweet home

Chapter 16 – Home sweet home

Josephine looked back as the ever growing procession was advancing. Since they had left London, a day earlier, their group had increased as noble travelers had attached themselves seeking Guy's protection and that of his soldiers for their journey … And one of those travelers was Archie …

Josephine could see him every time she turned her head. He had disguised himself as to avoid being recognized. Having him there, smiling to her from time to time, gave her some kind of comfort. She trusted him and knew that he could be very efficient at anything that she might need. She was not planning on using his skills against Guy but more so to aid him.

She feared Nottingham with all of it's skimming nobles, with Robin Hood's irresponsible, childish games but most of all she feared the Sheriff. He was a snake of the worst kind and he held the power to destroy Guy in a moment if he so wished it because of his poisonous mind and most of all because of the fact that Guy was not paying enough attention. She would have to do that for him.

After a days journey her whole body hurt. Guy had refused to make long stops, pausing only once for two hours during the night and the lack of rest and the tightened manner in which she had to keep her muscles were taking its toil. It was mostly due to the horse. Josephine knew that. Sultan, as was his name, was far too big for her to control easily. It was just as big as Guy's horse but he was a big man … She simply did not have the strength to be at ease. She could have asked his permission to travel in one of the carts but she refused to do so. She knew that would mean loosing his respect. So she carried on.

Since they had left London, he had not even looked in her direction. He would look at his horse, at the trees behind her, into the ground, but never at her. This hurt. It hurt terribly and she could not help but wonder if he was starting to regret taking her back with him. Which is why his sudden question caught her so unprepared:

"Where did you find her?", Guy asked pointing back at Walaa', who was walking behind the horses on foot even though a coachman had offered to let her ride next to him. She said she did not want to lose sight of her mistress.

This had surprised Guy. He had not seen anyone like her until now, and he was curious. But he could have been able to contain himself from asking. The truth was he had been searching for something to talk to her about for quite some time now. Having her so near unnerved him and made him vulnerable. He did not want to let on but he needed to hear her voice. He was not anywhere near forgiving her but he had to admit that having her back felt like having been lifted up from hell.

He was just unsure of what was going to happen now. He knew he needed her back but he didn't know if he could ever forgive her. He did not know if he could stop punishing her or if he could ever trust her again.

He felt ashamed for what he had done to her that night. He felt ashamed for the way he spoke to her but still he could not help feel anger when he looked into her face, when he heard her voice, when she tried to touch him. Those were the same eyes that had betrayed him. Those where the same hands that had sent him to hell without looking back. Those lips had been the same ones that had deceived him. That voice had been the same steady voice that had lied to him without fail for three months. And that he could not forgive.

Josephine smiled at his question, mostly because it finally gave them something to talk about: "In the Holy Land …", she answered with a cunning smile.

This seriously unbalanced Guy. "When were you in the Holy Land?", he asked impatiently.

Guy's attitude confused Josephine. He looked nervous and she could not tell why. He was quick to compose himself so she let go of it. "During the time they tried to kill King Richard at Acre", she answered simply.

This time Guy did not let on anything but inside he was burning. He wondered how much she knew about that and if there was something that could somehow endanger him. If that were the case … would she send him to his death? He would have liked to answer no but he was not sure.

"After that,", Josephine continued looking back at Walaa', "all hell broke loose and King Richard became ever hungrier for Saracen blood. So he killed their men and raped their women.", she finished with disgust in her voice. "Walaa' was just one of the unlucky ones there".

"You disapprove of the king's decision?", Guy asked getting his horse closer to hers so nobody could hear them. Despite himself, he felt interested in what she had to say.

"The Arabs are a great culture that deserve our respect …they have a lot to teach us. Their technical achievements, their literature, their art … But instead of trying to learn it, we are destroying it."

"I had not picked you for an idealistic soul", Guy replied mockingly. He did not want to hear a "united, loving world" speech like the one he had gotten from Hood.

"I am not", Josephine replied snappishly. "I just don't think it's good business to destroy something that could bring you a profit if treated nicely." … "Although, I suppose", she added quickly thinking about the matter better, "we would not be having this war if it was not profitable for some."

This made Guy smile. Of course there was profit in war. He had been the recipient of some of it. A small part compared to others, but enough for the moment.

"There will always be war", he replied in a dry voice.

"As long as we look at each other and see differences instead of similarities, there will always be war", she replied only to have him turn to look at her for the first time during the conversation. "An old storyteller told me that … while I was in Medina."

He could tell that she was no longer talking about the crusade, but about the both of them. Her eyes were pleading for him to give her a look of acknowledgment. To tell her that he would try to listen and understand. But he refused it and turned away. He did not want to understand. He was too bitter for that.

"Why were you in the Holy Land", he continued in a cold, detached voice.

She could tell that he had drifted away again. "On business", she answered resigned.

"What kind of business", he asked mockingly as if he already knew the answer.

"Spices, essences, cloths …the English like exotic things", she replied smiling. This was not the answer he was expecting and he felt relief. He had come to realize that she was by no means a common whore, but still her past was more then enough for him to look down on her still.

"And did you make money?"

He was now interrogating her and she knew it. Still it had been the first time he had asked her about her life and she felt the need to tell him. "Yes, I did. Until …", she started spontaneously but stopped mid-way through.

"Until what ?", he asked snappishly.

"Until Robert found me and took it away."

This made Guy flinch and pull his horse away with a sudden movement.

She hated herself for having said that.

"So …", he finally said after a long silence "why do you trust her as you do?", he asked pointing back at Walaa'.

"Because once you were at the lowest and you are saved, you know where you are going to end up if you betray the person who saved you … Do you know what her name means?", she asked him trying desperately to prolong the conversation for she feared once it was done, it would be a long while until she heard his voice or felt his eyes on her again.

"No!", was everything answered. He had lost his desire to hear her voice. He just wanted her to be quiet now.

"You should … It is your favorite word", she tried adding cheerfulness to her voice … "It means loyalty."

The word made him give her a cold look that traveled straight into her soul … "Somehow that word in your mouth sounds ridiculous", he told her and then speeded up his horse so he would no longer have to look at her. He could not. Not now.

Just as she had feared, Guy did not address her for the next day and a half. They had traveled quite a great deal and everyone was tired, so finally Guy had to accede to stopping for the night.

Josephine felt quite uneasy about Guy's sudden change of heart, especially since she could see how restless he was. He did not seem tired enough to want to stop but soon enough she understood. They stopped in front of the "blasted inn" as she called it as soon as she saw it.

This was Guy's way of showing her what she had done to him. He had first done it with the dress and now with this. She felt sick to her stomach for what she had done but having him remind her was worst then anything.

"Let me help you down, my lady", Guy said approaching her horse and extending his hand in a mocking way.

She gave him her hand and said nothing. This was his show and she had to allow him to carry it through. Otherwise she might lose him forever.

As everyone started walking around and trying to secure lodgings for the night, the inn's owner came to personally welcome them. As soon as he saw Josephine, his face changed immediately. He remembered who she was and the admiration on his face told Guy that he had remembered correctly. The man was so taken aback that he did not even speak. Guy was quickly loosing his patience. "Show me and my wife", he underlined the word, "to our room".

The moment the man understood that the woman he had seen here and had told Gisborne about during his last visit was none other then his own wife, he turned to wax. Remembering the way he had spoken of her made him thank his lucky stars he had not been run over by Gisborne's sword. He was quick to make his apologies and escort them to their room.

Guy could remember the way to that room all too well, even though he pretended not to and he wondered if she did as well. He could not tell. She kept her eyes set firmly into the ground as if she was terribly ashamed. "She should be!", Guy thought bitterly but doubted her sincerity.

As soon as the owner had left the room and shut the door behind them, she turned around to look at Guy who had now leaned against the door. "Why are you doing this?", she asked with pain in her eyes. "Why bring me to this room?"

Everywhere she looked there were evidences of her betrayal and she could not bare it. The worst of it was that once they would get closer to Locksley, more and more apparent her betrayal would become.

"I don't know what you mean, wife", Guy replied mockingly looking at her with his cold eyes. "I thought you might be tired …"

She was in no mood to play irony with him. "Guy, please …", she begged. "Stop this …". She would have wanted to tell him to come to her, to let her prove to him how much she loved him, to let her mend what she had done. But she did not. She knew all too well he would refuse.

"Stop what?", he continued in the same way. Having her in this room was working out much better then he had thought. He thought he would be angry but she was so upset and so uncomfortable that he felt calm and it soothed him to have her in such anguish.

Her knees started shaking from the way he was looking at her and from remembering things that had happened in this room. Things that he did not know about but that had happened because of what she had done for him. She slowly made her way to the bed with the intention to crush into it and sob all night long. As she was getting ready to sit down, she heard his voice: "Don't sit there!", he groaned. His voice sounded harsh and violent.

Guy could not bare to see her sited upon that bed. That was where she had been with him. "But never again", he thought squeezing his hand hard into a fist. She would never bed another man!

The situation finally got the best of Josephine. As she stood up from the bed, all the tension form the past days pressed upon her and she lost her temper: "Christ's blood!", she screamed. "This is ridiculous". Just as soon as she said it, she regretted it. It was a stupid thing to say.

Guy's face turned to cold rage and he started moving closer to her.

"It was a bad choice of words", she tried apologizing seeing him getting closer to her until he was but inches away.

"No … it was not", he replied closing up his jaw to restrain himself. "I am a ridiculous man. I think you have proven that most successfully.", he concluded bitterly.

"Guy, no …", she tried explaining … "It was not want I meant … Please …", she pleaded putting her hand on his arm.

He quickly pulled it away in a violent manner and turned his back to her.

"I will have your maid bring your supper. Do not leave this room!", he ordered menacingly and then made his way to the door intending to numb himself with wine for the rest of the night.

He left her in the middle of the room. Alone. With her demons. Just as he had been but a few days earlier. Tears started falling from her eyes. This would be harder then she had thought. Even if he was gone, and she was sure he would not come back again, she could not bring herself to lay on the bed although every bone in her body requested it. Instead she sat in front of the table, holding her legs up and rocking herself back and forth as she often did.

That night Guy did not come to bed and she had not slept at all. Both of them looked tired as they started their journey once more and not another word was spoken until they reached Locksley.

Even if Josephine felt sad and anxious of what was going to happen from now one, seeing Locksley from afar filled her with happiness. It had been the only place she had ever come close to calling home. She had been truly happy here for the first time and even if it had been for a short period it was that thought that had brought her back. She knew they could be happy if Guy would just let them be.

The yard at Locksley looked lively and filled with people as it always did and they all stopped to see the sight. The mistress was back. They had been speculating for weeks that she was gone for good. But there she was. Looking better then ever and riding on a black horse. The people that saw her that day felt something was different about her. Somehow she seemed to match the master much better, and not in a good way. Soon enough they would find out the full extent of that feeling.

Guy helped her down the horse and without saying a word entered the Manor. Thornton was there to greet them as they came in. He was as surprised to see her as everyone else, more so even for he knew a large part of what had happened that night when she went missing.

Yet here she was. She did not seem harmed. She looked very much at ease, so Thornton had to conclude that she had no problem with being back.

"Hello, Thornton", she said with a sweet voice smiling at the old servant.

The sound of her voice made Guy release her hand instantly and move a few steps away. "Come with me", he said heading for the stairs.

Josephine smiled once more at the servant and handed him her gloves then went up the stairs behind her husband.

Guy opened the door to his fortune room and went in.

Josephine stood in the door not sure what to make of this. She had thought that Guy would not allow her anywhere near this room for a very long time. She knew him far to well to think that he had forgiven her. She could see in his eyes that he had not.

"This is all!", he said … "This is all I have …", he repeated extending his hands and turning towards her.

" I know …", she replied.

"Here is the key …", he said handing it to her. She looked at it but did not move. What was this? She did not understand. "Take it!", he ordered placing it roughly in her hand.

"Now …", he said lowering his voice in a menacing whisper and grabbing her face, lifting it up … "We are the only ones with keys". A wicked smile bloomed on his face as he brought his mouth next to her ear: "If I find any money missing, I will know it is you … And I will break your neck".

With that he shoved her face aside and left the room leaving her in shock.

She looked at this room …and remembered the exact number of lashes she had gotten from Robert for refusing to rob it … 83 … .


	18. Chapter 17: Denial of love

So, this chapter is again a little dark (especially the last part) and shows us a part of Josephine that is more then a little strange. Hope you like it and remember reviews mean love!!!!!

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Chapter 17 – Denial of love 

"No! …No! Stop it!"…. "Robert, don't … "

Guy sat in his bed. Darkness surrounded him. He had just awakened from one of his usual nightmares. People burning, children without hands or eyes, dark shadows … all coming closer, always closer to him and he could not get away from them. And behind him … her … laughing at him. Laughing at his anguish.

Sweat covered his body and his breath had quickened. He stood face up, starring into the darkness of the room as if to say: "I am not afraid of you! I am not afraid of your hollowness."

He remind submerged in stillness listening to his wife's screams coming from down the hall. He knew there was no real danger. She was having her own nightly hell. He wondered why it was that they were so linked to each other. There were invisible strings attaching them to each other and he knew not why. "Is it because we are both equally rotten?". A shining exterior with nothingness on the inside… that is what they were. But he did not want this. He wanted someone to offer him redemption. Someone who would save him from this hell and the next. She was drenched in sins.

He refused to remember that she had been the only one who had given him peace once, with only one touch of her hand.

The sounds became more and more terrified and horrible and his arms and legs almost took a life of their own , trying to force him on his feet and into that room. But he kept them still and remind looking into the black.

Her breathing was roughed . Guy could guess how she must be moving from side to side, sweating, kicking …

"Never again!" … the scream came again. Her voice was harsh and violent but Guy could sense the fear. She was calling out for help. She was calling out for him. He could hear her mumbling his name now and again, always in a gurgling whisper.

He knew he should go to her. Wake her up … comfort her … Tell her that he would stay to keep watch over the demons. But he did not.

Where was she when his demons came back? Where were her hands when he was calling out for her?

He turned around on his side and pushed his arm violently into the mattress. Then he put the pillow over his head and held it tightly. He didn't want to hear her anymore.

But his heart … his treacherous heart could not remain silent in front of its mistress's pain and began to beat ever more frantically.

_Robert stood over her with his whip in hand. Lash after lash came crushing down on her as she tried to get away. But he was stronger … He was so strong and he was so angry:_

"_What did I tell you?", he said grabbing her by the hair and shoving her face against the floor. "Didn't I say all the money?"_

"_Go to hell, Robert!", she said in her indifferent voice as she kept her eyes away form him and focused on the wall. That always seemed to make the pain more bearable._

"_You are such a stupid whore!", he screamed in her ear. "Do you think he cares for you more then for the dirt on his boots?"_

"_He does care!", she answered pushing him back with her elbow. "He loves me!"_

"_I don't love you!", came the voice._

_That was not Robert's voice … Josephine turned around and looked into the eyes of the man that was now on top of her … It was Guy!_

"_Guy!", she said widening her eyes in terror._

_What was this? What kind of cruel joke was this? Why was Guy standing on top of her with a whip?_

"_It's been too long, wife, since I have enjoyed you", he said with a cruel smile and hallow eyes, pulling her undeshift, ripping it apart._

_Josephine saw him holding up the whip, preparing to strike. She couldn't let him do that … Not him. "Stop it, Guy!", she said in a harsh voice. "You're not like this!"_

"_Think again!", he replied coolly as lash after lash came crushing down on her body._

"_No!", she screamed. "Never again!" … And with that she pulled herself away from him._

The sudden shift caused her to wake up and she was now standing in the middle of the bed, looking around the dark room, trying to make sense of it all.

Her heart was beating out of her chest, her palms were drenched in sweat which she tried to dry against her undershift again and again and she couldn't breathe.

She closed her eyes and wrapped her arms around her body in an attempt to calm herself. She started rocking back and forth and humming the song Angel had taught her so many years ago …"And you know that you will trust her for she's touched your perfect body with her mind …", she kept saying again and again, first interrupted by the sudden gasps for air, until her body stopped shivering, her breath became calm and her heart stopped pounding.

This left her collected but her throat felt dry. Getting up, she still felt dizzy but she managed to make her way to the water pitcher in the corner. She poured herself a large glass of water which she drank instantly, pouring herself one more right after. There was one solitary candle next to the pitcher which she litted. Being in the dark never agreed with her . Too many shadows everywhere. At least with the candle burning, they were kept safely in the corner.

"_Go to sleep now. I am here_ …", she remembered he had said that night.

And he kept to his promise. She remembered waking up many times that night frightened that he had left her alone. But he had been there, holding her in his arms, his hand still entangled in her hair … That is when she knew it … That was when she knew she loved him.

But tonight her cries had remind unanswered … She did not expect him to come to her but she could not help wanting him to. His absence hurt more so when she looked around the empty room he had put her in. He had said the master's room was not to be shared with anyone from now on and if and when he had need of her, he would call her to him.

It had been two weeks and he had not called her. She knew him well enough to know that two weeks was too long for him and that he must be taking care of his needs somewhere else. She knew where … It was in the body of that silly kitchen maid … Gretchen… a vulgar, little slut that gave her a smile of triumph every time she would pass her in the hall.

She had remind calm in front of this affront, for she did not want to give Guy the satisfaction of seeing her jealous. But soon enough …She would make that girl clean the pigs hogsty until she was blue in the face … and he … Oh! He would get his too … A filtration with some lord at some gathering should more then suffice. Men are so easily wounded in their pride.

But still this estrangement worried her … She did not particularly want him in her bed again after what had happened that night in London but still she knew the kind of tenderness he was capable of. And the only way they could get back there was if they began getting closer … But in the two weeks she had been back at Locksley, she had not found a way in.

-oOo-

"You look pale wife …", he said looking over to her at the other end of the table. "It is not a very appealing sight". "Rough night?", he enquired in his usual wolfish voice …

Looking up at him Josephine had the sudden sensation that the man sited there was not Guy at all, but Robert, with his wicked grin and mechanic voice. She shook her head to make the image disappear. God! She must set matters right as soon as possible … otherwise she's going to start hating him …

"I under slept a little …", she replied sweetly giving him a violent gaze.

To anyone on the outside it might have seemed a normal, family discussion. A worried husband and his sweet wife … But the truth was, those two lines were everything it took for them to know they were at war even at the breakfast table.

"Well, haven't we all …", Guy replied cryptically concentrating on his plate.

Josephine wondered how he slept at night. Did he miss her body warming up his bed? Did he miss her arms around him? … She knew she missed his closeness terribly and the weight of his body on top of hers, possessing her slowly and sweetly as he had once done …

Her thoughts were interrupted by Gretchen walking into the room with a trey of fruit which she placed in front of Guy with the most graceful of movements before turning to Josephine and giving her one of her wicked smiles ….

Josephine smiled back menacingly making the maid uncomfortable. She watched the scene trying to appear detached even if her grip on the fork had tightened to the breaking point … She saw Guy leaning back in his chair as if to observe the servant better.

He could tell how much this was annoying his wife and he wanted her to suffer. To see that he could have anyone, anytime and it did not matter whether she agreed or not.

But still no matter how many bodies he would possess, he could not shake off the need of having her in his bed, whispering in his ear, burning beneath him …

"I thought I would go into Nottingham today", Josephine said indifferently, feeling as if she would burst if she remind silent any longer.

"You will do not such thing …", Guy answered implacably. Now more then ever he wanted to keep her away from town. There were too many temptations there and then ... there was the Sheriff … Guy did not want Josephine anywhere near the Sheriff. The thought of her and Vasey allaying themselves against him was so real in his mind. "I will not have you shame me there …", he continued offering some kind of explanation.

His words angered Josephine and she threw her fork on the plate making as much noise as possible … "Well, then …husband,", she replied ironically trying to restrain from shouting, "if you are afraid of being shamed may I suggest you chose your lovers more carefully." His surprised, inquisitive gaze made her go on. "The kitchen maid gives me a stupid, obvious smile every time I pass her in the halls of this manor." Then as her eyes became colder she added in a sharp whisper: "You may trust me when I tell you it leaves nothing to the imagination." Telling him that made her realize just how angry she was that he took other women in his bed … in _her_ bed.

Her words angered him. How dare she? "Stupid girl!", he thought … "I'll see to it …", he replied looking at his wife with a slightly less cold voice.

Then razing abruptly, he added: "I'm going into the fields today. I won't come back until the evening". "I expect …", he concluded lowering his voice and lifting her chin "you to wait for me with dinner ready."

"Have your kitchen maid do it for you!", Josephine replied with rage burning in her eyes, pushing his hand away.

He quickly grabbed her face again and turned it towards him. He smiled wickedly even if his eyes were cold … "No! You will do it! You will do it as you did before you left …Before", he added lowering his face near hers "you stole my money".

Josephine starred him right in the face and whispered back "I only cooked so I could get access to your cellar.", her temper getting the best of her.

That made him release her face and stand up, his body increasingly rigid, his face filled with rage. He tightened his jaw and griped his hands into hard, controlled fists …"You will do it nonetheless", he replied menacingly looking away from her.

Then with hurried steps he left the hall. Every word she had ever told him, every look, every carress … all of it had been perfectly studied and controlled lies. None of it was true. And he had believed it all! He had behaved as the world's greatest fool! But he was going to make her pay … He was going to make her crawl on the floor in pain, just as he had done when he had learned the truth …

Just as he was getting ready to leave the Manor he spotted the kitchen maid lurking in one of the corners, singing in a high, pitched voice that made Guy ready to kill he then and there. Instead he came closer to her and grabbed her by the throat, pinning her to the wall … "If I ever find out that you have disrespected my wife in any way …I will feed you to my dogs. Is that understood?".

Guy's violent voice and cold rage made the girl start whipping … "But master ... I thought …".

"You …", Guy said menacingly cutting her off, "You don't think. You obey!", he told her. "My wife is your mistress and as such if she is to ask you to kiss her feet every time you walk passed her, you will do it! If not, you will have me to deal with". He concluded, releasing the girl and then walked out the door, slamming it behind him.

-oOo-

Josephine did wait for him with dinner. She felt sorry for having said what she had said that morning. She knew it did neither of them any good. It made her feel rotten and it made him remember the exact thing that she wished he'd forget. She loved this man but somehow he always managed to push her in all the wrong directions. She just wanted to make things right. She wanted to wash away the pain she had caused. Why could he just let her?

"Do you like it?", she asked adding sweetness to her voice and pouring him some wine.

He said nothing. Just starred into his plate and ate in silence. He looked tired after being in the fields all day long. He had supervised the installment of a new fence and some preparations that were made to the earth to get ready for the winter that was soon approaching.

The food was good and he was starved, but he wasn't about to let her know that. He did not much want to talk to her that night. He merely wanted to eat and go to bed.

"Guy, please …", she tried again … "Please, won't you just look at me?", she said sitting on the chair next to him. Still no answer.

"I'm sorry for what I said this morning …", she continued placing her hands on the table and searching for his eyes with her own. "I don't want you to think that everything I did or said was a lie.", she began. "In fact, I was never more myself then when I was with you. It is true that I started cooking for you only to be able to go to the cellar but that changed when I saw that you liked it so much. I wanted to please you. Truly, I did …", she continued even if it felt like her words were hitting a stone wall. "You mustn't believe I lied about loving you …Otherwise I wouldn't be here now …", she concluded placing her hand over his, only to have him quickly pull it away.

Her words angered him. They filled him with pain and rage ... especially since he was so close to believing them. Her voice sounded so sweet and familiar. Her face seemed so sincere. He must be an even greater fool then he thought … He couldn't trust this woman with anything … So he spoke in anger, thinking only of hurting her: "You know … I was thinking, wife, and you were right …".

The phrase surprised Josephine and she looked away … She had expected some kind of response to her words after she had stepped over her pride in such a way, but this … this sounded bad to her. What was he thinking of doing?

"About what?", she asked taking a mouth full of wine from her goblet as if to prepare herself.

"My choice of lovers has not been a very fortunate one …", he answered giving her a soft smile. "The kitchen servants are ill equipped to handle my needs …", he added ironically.

Josephine kept her face away from him but she could not help but give out a smile of relief.

"That is why I've decided to take a lover that is fit for a man of my position."

This was not what she had expected and she quickly turned her face around to look at him. His face was darkened with cold anger and a wicked kind of satisfaction that sent shivers down her back.

"Who?", she whispered feeling her throat block up. She turned to stone and stood looking at him, fearing that she knew exactly what he was going to say.

He gave her a menacing half smile, looking at her from under his long lashes and whispered back: "Marian."

Her blood turned to ice. Her mind started burning. She wanted to jump on him and scratch his face, slap sense back into him, crush him beneath her feet just for suggesting such a thing. Anyone else she could handle. But not her. He had loved her once. He could grow to love her again. Perhaps he had never stopped loving her…"No!", she said all of a sudden slamming her hands against the table.

Guy remained calm through all the signs that his wife was about to break down in a attack of rage. He enjoyed it immensely. He had finally found the thing that seemed to hurt her the most. And somehow making her jealous pleased him in another way as well … It proved to him that some of what she was saying could actually be true. He could sense how profound and real her desperation at him taking a new lover was.

Josephine tried to calm herself. This was not the way to make him stop this stupid notion. This would only fuel him more. She had to resort to something else … "I thought you would have more pride then this ... Chasing around a woman that despises you. That is rather sad …", she told him , blinking excessively under the sting of fresh tears threatening to show just how weak she was to him.

That did make him take notice. He narrowed his eyes and grabbed her face violently, pulling her closer to him: "You never talk to me like that again!", he shouted. How dare she tell him that? To remind him of the way Marian had treated him? He had enough with the Sheriff and almost everyone else in Nottingham laughing at the way Marian had shamed him. He would not allow her to do the same.

"Don't do this!", she pleaded as he slowly released her face and turned away from her. "I know that I've hurt you but this is not the way …"

"Hurt me?", he turned lifting his eyebrows in irony. "Don't flatter yourself!", he said cruelly seeing her dropping her face down. "You've pleased me some of the time ... but I've realized that you are not what I want", he concluded feeling as if the words were going to rip him open.

"I know you think …", she said starring at the table, not able to look at him, "that you need redemption and that she can give you that …But you will never be happy with her."

"Is that so? Why not?", he replied ironically, refusing to look at her, for if he did he might lose his resolve and just kneel before her.

"She will never see you, Guy. She will always despise what you are … Her redemption will feel as a punishment that will slowly destroy you. She could never love you like I love you.", she told him looking into his eyes with a deep, hypnotic gaze that creped into his soul forcing him to look back at her. "Remember how it felt?", she asked with a hopeful voice. "When we were together … always hand in hand? …Here, feel it now!", she said grabbing his hand and holding it tightly between her own.

"Oh, yes!", he thought, briefly closing his eyes. He did remember. Her small, cold, tender hand holding his own. How he had longed for it. How he had cursed it and begged for it … "As cold as that?", he answered in an indifferent voice, giving her a icy look.

She quickly pulled her hand away … "I love you!", she professed, razing her voice.

"Oh, you're pathetic!", he shouted, getting up from his chair. "Have you now resorted to begging?", he asked, turning his back to her and heading for the fire.

"There is nothing pathetic about loving someone the way I love you … but there is something truly pathetic about someone who doesn't know how to accept such a love", she said in a tired voice, getting up from her chair and heading for the door. She had no strength left to fight tonight.

"Stop!", his voice stopped her in the doorway. "Come here …"

His voice sounded calm and warm so she made an effort to turn around and head to where he was.

She looked up at him a little annoyed, but as he put his hands on her face, pulling her upwards she forgot and stretched her neck up to meet his mouth. Then his hand came out of nowhere and pulled the necklace form her neck, making her gasp in surprise.

The necklace had always been with her after she had left him and its absence now felt strange and painful … "What are you doing?", she asked stretching her hands trying to get it back.

"A jewel like you, wife,", he replied mockingly holding the necklace out of her reach, "does not need any ornaments". And with that he threw the necklace into the fire.

That had been the strongest proof of his weakness, of the foolish way in which she had played with him and now it was gone. Just as he prepared to turn to her with a large smile of triumph, she started pushing him out of the way, trying to get the necklace out. "No!", she screamed, almost burning herself in the flames. He had to grip her tightly, otherwise she might come to serious harm. He could not bare the thought of her hands being burnt …"Stop it, Josephine! Stop it right now!", he ordered in a concerned voice.

That put an end to her struggles and she sat up straight, looking as the flames slowly melted the precious metal. "Soon it will be gone!", she whispered.

The pain Guy saw on her face shamed him deeply. He almost put his hands in the flames himself to try and salvage for her what he had thrown in.

"How could you do that?", she asked in a hurt voice. "I loved that necklace! I loved it!". "How could you?", she asked again this time looking bitterly disappointed. Then she turned around and left the room. He had done enough damage for one night. She did not want to hear his answer.

"Because I love you …", was the only thing that Guy could think but the words remind deep down in his throat and he could not speak them.

-oOo-

Back in her room, the tears finally got the best of Josephine. Through the gasps for air and throwing things around, she could hear soft knocks on the door. She knew it was Walaa' but she did not answer. She didn't want to talk to anyone. She was looking for something. She needed ….Ah! There it was …Her sawing basket.

She brought it to the table and she sat down in front of it. Her heart started beating faster. She felt her whole body shiver as she opened it.

It had been so long since she had done this. Since before she had met Guy. She had not felt the need to until tonight. Until he had shattered her.

With trembling hands she lifted up her dress, spreading her legs and exposing her thigh. She lifted the needle. She touched it slowly. The tip was still as sharp as when she had used it last. She lowered her hand and with one swift move she pushed the small, thin object deep down into the flesh.

She suppressed the sound of pain coming out of her chest and closed her eyes feeling the needle move slightly inside the wound before taking it out.

She looked down …The small incision was now bleeding. By tomorrow the whole area would be black and blue. This calmed her. Finally the pain was on the outside.

* * *

So now at the end .. a word to some of my review wirters :)) ... 

**DeanParker**: Hate Robert ... :)

**Marian66**: Don't worry about reviewing late and you must tell me how the play went !

**Leah Day**: Sorry for making Josephine weak again ! Will you forgive me if I promise she'll be really mean to him in the next chapter?!?

As always thank you for reading and reviewing. It means a lot to me!


	19. Chapter 18: Breaking point

All right ... so I've been looking forward to writing this chapter for a very long time. I kept polishing it and polishing it and this is what I got in the end. And I have to say I'm quite pleased with the result.

I hope you like it because I view it as one of the chapters that best describes who these two people are and their relationship with each other ... A volatile, passionate, violent at times relationship. I also wanted to show that in their own way they are both quite dangerous people.

I'm going to rate this chapter **MA** for explicit adult content.

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Chapter 18 – Breaking point 

In the fallowing weeks, Guy's wife started sawing. Excessively so. He had never seen her do needle work before but she seemed extremely skilled with it. Table covers, sheets, old gowns … All of them were taken under the careful hand of Lady Gisborne and transformed …

And whenever she felt the need to, she would stick that needle into her finger, the palm of her hand, into the flesh of her legs and drew blood. By the end of the task, the objects would look exquisite. All the result of skillful hands, good taste and pain.

Josephine thought it all so true to form. After all, what else could she create if not that? She herself was the carefully polished result of intelligence, good taste and an unbearable amount of pain.

Walaa' was not of the same opinion. She knew all too well what the cause of this spontaneous hunger for creativity in her mistress. She looked upon her disapprovingly and would often say: "I do sawing. Stop! You will spoil eyes …" … only to be cast away with the same reply, delivered in a grumpy, distracted voice: "You have no taste for needle work, woman. "

Guy, of course, was not aware of any of this. He had not seen his wife's body since that night in London, more then a month ago and he could not see the bruises. He looked on her needle work, as at every thing else these days, indifferently. He was wearing the mask of cool, collected indifference and would not relinquish it even if her eyes, as always, pleaded with him.

But the new found activity did bring about change, Guy observed. She did not seem so affected by him. She did not seek his company any longer, nor did she seem afflicted by his visits to Marian, which he hinted to subtly or not. She would just nod menacingly, as if she was making a note of it for later and return to her sawing. She had never seemed more a lady to him then at this very moment. He began to have a grudging respect for her. He had never truly respected her. He had regarded her title as honorable, he was endeared by her apparent innocence ... but now he was starting to see a quite new side to this woman.

She may not have been noble of birth, but she was more of a lady then any he had ever known. And was recognized as such anywhere she would go. Her decided, stubborn, proud character that had a propensity for self appreciation was much like his own, he had to admit. Her new stoic, cold attitude towards the serfs had soon made her feared and obeyed without question, without ever having to actually resort to violence. He could not help but wonder what kind of enemy she would make to someone who would cross her. He could guess that she would be extremely dangerous….The surprising thing was that all of this did not make him want to pull away from her. It only drew him nearer, feeling increasingly willing to submit this woman and in turn be submitted by her.

Still things were not going well. They hardly spoke to each other anymore, both being too preoccupied with other thoughts. One with his relentless pursuit of forgiveness through painful vengeance and the other seeking comfort in silent pain … the only constant thing in her life.

Guy roamed Nottingham like a wild hound. He would torment the prisoners, scare little children and Sir Edward, haunt down outlaws throughout the land and was on a one man frantic pursuit of the illusive Night Watchman, who had not made his presence felt in a very long time. Guy had started to wonder whether the man had retired with his money in some remote part of the world. … All this, of course, delighted the Sheriff. Guy of Gisborne was back to his old, efficient self.

He needed to be … He needed to keep busy. He needed to be tired by the time he got home, so he would not be tempted by his wife's sensually voluptuous figure walking through the hallways. He had become somewhat afraid of her.

He would cross her in the halls, and just the accidental brushing of his hand against hers would send him over the edge. A smile, a look of mischief and he would have to get out of the room, for if he did not, his resistance would crumble and his resolve would have meant nothing. He did not want to give in but he so wished she would make him.

The fact that he had been living as a chaste monk for the past month did not help. He had decided against using any of the kitchen maids, or any other kind of maid for that matter, for carnal pleasure. The peasants were all together a poor choice of lovers. They were simple minded but still thought themselves equal to men like him. He had had enough with Annie … He did not need another stupid girl with child and having to run all over the forest with another infant.

And then there was the ever pressing matter of Lady Marian of Knighton Hall. He had no laid a finger on her nor did he intend to, despite what he had said to his wife. He would never do that for it would prove weakness on his part to sleep with a woman that had treated him so abominably and who had never had any love for him. And then there was the simple matter that he did not find the woman appealing any more.

He had striped her of everything she had and she seemed so grey and gloomy every time he would see her. He wondered whether this was his imagination or if she had really faded away … Still, having someone so much in his control did not claim any erotic desires on Guy's part. It hardly seemed exciting sport.

Still, he would visit regularly, more to benefit the spies he was sure his wife had sent after him, at first hoping for his interest in Marian's body to increase and then out of boredom. She was so lonely and paranoid but still kept her proud eyes, that it began to cause Guy amusement.

And since he did not have much of that at home, he felt compelled to seek it elsewhere.

This was done without actually realizing the kind of anguish he was producing in his wife and the kind of wedge he was causing in his marriage. The days at Locksley Manor seemed increasingly red … red with anger and rage … filled with violent gazes, and repressed jealousy. He did not understand that the lack of erotic closeness was affecting Josephine in quite the same way as it did him. She was increasingly frustrated and angry ….

The tension between them grew with each passing day. It was patently clear that something was about to explode …

-oOo-

"Today is the day …", Guy informed her as they were having breakfast.

Meals had become the only times they saw each other, with the exception of the accidental meetings in the hallways of their home. It made them remember why it was they were going thorough this battle. It showed them what they were missing because they were not together and brought back the memory of other times when they actually enjoyed each other's company at the dinner table.

Then, of course, she had been sited by his side and not at the opposite head of the long table. This way they seemed more enemies facing each other on the battle field. The tension was such that their serfs would quickly bring the food and then disappear, leaving them alone only appearing if they called for them.

His commentary was short and rather silly, but still this did not surprise Josephine. She had grown used to Guy's remarks. She raised her head to look at him, arched her brow in sarcasm and scrutinized him with her irony filled gaze. "The day you shave off those ridiculous sideburns?"

He looked at her menacingly, in a way that he knew scared many a brave men but Josephine did not seem bothered by it. She bit into a piece of carrot with a gesture of defiance and glim in her eye. "This woman is as disrespectful as she is beautiful". He was more then willing to teach her how to respect her husband. The thought brought a half smile to his face. "No", he responded calmly, "the day I bed Marian. I thought you might like to know …".

"Did you? You must be a quite friendless fellow, my lord, if you feel the need to tell such things to your wife …". This unbalanced Guy and Josephine felt a small glim of triumph. If he's going to hurt her in such a way then she was going to take every blow she possibly could.

"But I am quite surprised at you husband … all this time and you haven't managed such a simple task?", she continued mockingly.

Guy's grip on his chair tightened as he leaned back. "Well, Marian is a prize worth waiting for", he lied smiling at Josephine's increasingly pained eyes. That was her weak point. She could never disguise her eyes …Not to him … "She is a lady and as such deserves better treatment then a common harlot … But you would not know that …", he said looking at her ironically.

"Enough!". "I am your wife … If you will not love me, then at least respect me", Josephine lashed out slamming her fork against the plate.

"Respect you?", Guy asked giving out a sound of mock irony. "You have given me no reason to do so… Marian on the other hand …"

"I wonder …", Josephine interrupted with a sudden, calm voice looking straight at Guy …"do you ever wonder if I slept with Robin Hood?". She looked serious and cold.

Guy felt as if he was going crazy in a matter of seconds …How could it be? She did not know Hood. Or did she? "What?", he asked in a roughed, violent voice. His eyes widened and his fists were held tightly on the table. He was ready to grab her by the neck in a matter of seconds.

"Why … I've surprised you ….", Josephine continued. All common sense gone. All sense of the imminent danger gone as well. She could not see anything but her own rage. It was too late to back down now. "Well it shouldn't come as a surprise, considering you think me such a slut … and I did meet him several times."

Guy jumped on his feet, and with hurried steps made his way towards her. Her common sense might have flown out the window, but her reflexes still worked perfectly. She left the chair before he had gotten to it and moved towards the center of the table, taking the knife with her as she went.

Guy advanced with careful steps and she walked back. They kept at it to the point where they began a dance around the table. "What did you do?", he barked. Black rage covered his face.

Some part of Josephine knew full well the magnitude of the mistake she was making, but her brain was no longer responding. Once started, she could not stop. All the venom from what he had done and said to her came flooding in and she attacked the only way she knew how. "I slept with him … And what a perfect lover he was …I never touched you without thinking: Robin, Robin", she continued mimicking excitement with a voice of carnal desire.

And then for one second there was silence. Guy had stopped on one side of the table, Josephine on the other. They could hear nothing except each other's breathe ... increasingly roughed and hot. They could not see anything apart form the other's face … disheveled and angry … They starred so intensely that the image started blurring out.

"You never pleased me", she said. "You were such an inadequate lover. You are nothing compared to Robin …". There was no response.

All of a sudden she realized it. He was not speaking anymore. He had not said a word. A great feeling of fear overpowered her. His face looked animalic. His blue eyes were burning with rage and hate the likes of which she had never seen. He kept his grip tight on the chair and watched her closely, waiting for her movement in order to attack. This time he was going to kill her.

She felt her own grip on the knife that she was holding towards him. She felt midley ridiculous …. Her knife would not stop him and she was not capable of harming him. She slowly moved her eyes and saw that the door was not that far from her. If she was quick she could make it.

No thought was given to what she was going to do once she had left the room. Her only goal was to reach that door. She suddenly threw the knife on the floor and made a desperate run for the door. Just as she reached the knob with her hand, two great arms came out from behind and grabbed her, pulling her back violently.

She struggled trying to reach his hand and bite it. She stretched her arms back and managed to scratch his face. He gave out a sound of pain and softened his grip on her. She tried to push out at that moment, but his arms took hold once more and threw her on the table face up. The pitcher of milk, the butter and honey … all were thrown by her body … some spilling on the floor and some falling over her hair that was now spread across the table.

She tried to get up but his hand grabbed her neck and pinned her down … "Where are you going, wife?", he whispered coolly. "We're not done. We're only just starting", he said lifting her gown higher and higher with every word …

"Stop it, Guy!", she screamed pulling on her dress downwards only to have her hands slapped away.

"I just want to see how inadequate I am", Guy replied. Her words stung inside him like burning nails through the heart.

"Stop it, Guy!", she shouted again. "You know I did not mean it."

"When did you meet Hood?", he barked squeezing her thigh through the shift. If he had looked down he would have seen the greenish bruises she had caused herself, but he did not. He could not keep his eyes away from her face. That lying, treacherous face … "How could something so beautiful be so rotten?", he thought.

Josephine cried out in pain. "I met him the first time when I came to Nottingham ... and then he came for me here …", she continued feeling his hand tightening around her neck. "Guy, you're choking me!", she screamed.

"Why did he come here?", he shouted in rage lowering his face towards her.

"He took me …", she tried answering through the gasps for air, " … to see … Annie and your child".

This made him remove his hand from her neck. He saw her holding it now and coughing, holding her legs up as he took a few steps away. She knew about Annie and the child? But she had never said anything … She knew …

"I did not sleep with him …", he heard her say and focused his eyes once more on her. She looked so wretched and small, that he inclined to believe her. "I just wanted to hurt you …."

She saw him approach and pull her legs towards him, parting them as he did this. "If you go to her today, I will kill you!", she threatened in a harsh, cold voice.

He placed himself between her thighs and started to run his hands up and down her legs. He knew she liked this and soon enough he saw her beginning to arch her back. "I will go today … I will go tomorrow and every day it pleases me to do so", he replied starting to press himself against her. " But right now, wife,", he said lowering his face so his mouth would be perfectly situated over hers, "I have to know something …."

She starred back defiantly, trying to challenge him even if she felt her entrails starting to burn for him. It had been so long ... Too long.

"The last time we did this you said you weren't ready …. I want to find out how much it takes to make you ready" … and with a wolfish smile he moved his hand over her body, slowly, pressing with his finger, making her moan at the slightest of his touches … Then slipping his hand under her dress, he traveled up her thigh until he reached the center of her. A feathery touch from his fingers, and she was all white silkiness.

She felt moist to the touch, he observed and pressed his finger deep into the core of her … leaving her breathless for a second … "Well, wife, I was right … You are no lady … I doubt Marian would get wet this quickly".

"As if you would know …", she lashed back. Her knees started trembling and she finally relinquished the last shred of dignity and tightened her legs around him, pulling him closer to her. She knew that she was behaving as the harlot he had called her … spread over the table in this manner, opening her legs to him, almost begging for him to take her ... but she could not help herself ...She wanted him inside her. She wanted to feel that rhythm that had become so familiar to her …

"You should have told me you were so desperate for me, wife", Guy said, hardly able to hide his own arousal …He opened his breeches and started to rub against her , until he heard her cry out. He teased her … pushing in slightly and then quickly pulling out … Making her come closer to him and always pulling back. He did not know where he mustered up the strength to do that, when every instinct in his body was urging him to relieve himself of this burning desire deep inside her. Still he did it until he knew he had gotten her to the brink … when she had become as drunk with lust as he …He brought his face closer to hers and whispered … "Was Hood in here?", he asked putting his hand over her moist center as if it was a gate to keep away even the memory of another …

She shook her head, putting her hands around his waist … "No…" and could not help but start moving her hips around him.

"What do you want, Josephine?", he asked with his voice engrossed by desire.

"I want you!", she said with eyes half open garbing his shoulders.

But he was displeased. He pulled back. This was not the answer he expected. "What do you want?", he asked again, more firmly this time, stroking her. He was going to have his vengeance.

She looked at him hurt. Why did he have to do this? He wanted it as much as she did. She could see it and still his stupid pride felt the need to claim not only her pleasure but also her complete humiliation. "I want you to fuck me.", she finally said laying back on the table.

He suddenly garbed hold of her hips and drew her near him, connecting their bodies, caressing her stomach with his hand and pushing into her in the rhythm they had learned together a long time ago. He put his hands all over her body, pressing, caressing … touching everything he secretly wanted to kiss but would not allow himself.

The end came quickly … Both were too heated to make it last. The cruel little game had taken a toil at both of them and he finally pulled back and laced his breeches.

They sat still for a few moments, afraid to move ... afraid to admit that it was over … afraid to admit that what they really wanted was to do it all over again …That is until he spoke: "Well, I'm off …". He moved towards the door only to be stopped by her voice.

It was harsh and deep …It seemed as if she was casting some kind of ancient curse over him. "Yes …", she said stepping down from the table and arranging her hair in the process. "Go to her. Go to that woman that despises you so much".

She came closer to him, looking straight into his eyes with disgust and hate. "Go to that woman that could vomit at the mere sight of you".

Guy's eyes narrowed and he could feel every word she was saying as daggers. It hurt to hear such things about himself, even if he knew full well they were true. And it hurt even more to hear them from her.

"Do you know what she told me when I met her? She said she would rather live in a flea infested hole then to marry you … a monster she called you."

Guy started blinking quicker, trying to control his urge to slap that look of disgust off her face. Did he disgust her?

"And she was right.", she delivered the final blow, razing her face so she could reach his own and whisper the cruel words. "You are a monster … a lonely, pathetic, sad monster …".

Where it came from she could not tell, but Guy's hand came crushing down on her cheek and threw her to the floor in one swift move.

She remained there, feeling him behind her, looking down, breathing hard … Suddenly she reached for her lip and saw that he had drew blood from it. She sat looking into the floor below her … This was it. Whatever it was that they had been, they were over. She had accepted his hits in London for she knew they were given as a result of what she had done to him … But this … this was a different matter. This was given because of her, because Guy could not bare to think that Marian thought him so low. He had brought her between the two of them and that she could not tolerate.

Guy starred down at his wife blindly. His anger had overcome him. She thought him a monster. Did she think him a monster when she kissed his hands? When he had given her proof after proof of his love, did she think him a monster then?

He saw her slowly getting up and turning towards him. Oh, God! What had he done? He had made her bleed … Crimson blood covered her lower lip and he felt the need to go and lick it clean. Despite the pain she had caused him just a few moments earlier, he could not deny how weak he was to her.

Had she given him a chance, he would have done just that but she did not. She immediately moved towards the mirror in the corner where a pitcher of water stood … She pulled on her sleeve and soaked it into the water. She then proceeded to clean herself up, never looking at him as he stood facing her.

When she was done she turned to him and spoke in her indifferent voice that could always hide even the loudest of screams … "It appears you cannot be stopped … Go enjoy your lady.", and with that she went passed him and left the Great Hall.

Once out of that room, she made her way to the back of the Manor where the door towards the inner garden and west wall stood. She remained in the door way looking out towards the fence until she forgot the passing of time. She was not aware of anything around her, with the exception of hearing his horse riding away somewhere in the background and then … nothing. It was so close, a quick movement and then a sudden jump …

"I find something interesting …", Walaa' interrupted coming to her from behind. "Someone steel money from master before you … A man calls him Night Watchman … Master very angry with him". Seeing that there was no answer from her mistress, Walaa' continued … "You no happy with news? He treat you bad because steel money ... but can't catch the man …", she tried with amusement in her voice. But her mistress was not laughing.

"It's so close, Walaa' ", Josephine finally spoke. "We could make a run for it and then jump and we'd be gone from here forever …".

Walaa' was ready to start running in a second, but Josephine did not move … "But I can't!", she said frustrated as tears started running down her face. "It seems I am glued to this place … I will not move. I can not leave him."

Then turning towards Walaa', her face changed from meditative to cold determination … "I want you to send Archie to find what he can about this Night Watchman … and I want you to enquire after Lady Marian". Her tone was decided and dominating. Walaa' listened quietly.

"I want to know everything there is to know about her ... What are her dreams and hopes, her favorite food ... whether she likes sun or rain ... what the name of her first horse was! Everything!". She moved away from her trusted servant, folded her arms and turned her head around to look at her again … "I'm going to destroy her … I'm going to chop her up in little pieces and feed them to my dogs … or better yet", she interrupted smiling wickedly, "I'm going to feed her to Guy … By the time I'm done, I want his liver on a silver platter!".

* * *

Just wanted to say that from now on we are entering a quite dark part of the story with lots happening ... some things are doen by Guy and Josephine and some are done to them. 

Anyway remember reviews equal love:))


	20. Chapter 19: Poisonous mind

So ... really dark chapter ahead! I don't know what you are going to make of my poor Josephine after this one but I would like you to keep in mind what kind of life she has had and how important surviving is to her ...So plsssss don't judge her too harshly and think of the circumstances :)

Hope you like it and remember reviews equal love:))

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Chapter 19 – Poisonous mind

Two days passed and Guy did not come back to Locksley. Josephine did not know where he was but suspected he must be at Knighton Hall, introducing Marian to her first carnal pleasures. The thought made her want to jump out the nearest window. Still, as long as she had her trusted needle at hand, she managed to retain some of her sanity.

It was obvious that Guy, even if had given up on the idea of her, still felt the need to keep her attached to him … He had even given orders that two guards fallow her every move. The men tried to be as discreet as possible but Josephine knew perfectly well what they were doing.

She didn't understand why they took such pains to hide from her. She was more then certain Guy wanted nothing else then for these men to breathe down her neck all day long. "Oh, yes!", she thought. "He would want to mark his territory even in his absence".

In just two days she had resolved to think the worst of her husband. She would curse his name when she woke up in the morning, thinking of him awakening in Marian's bed. Then as night would fall, she would curse his name yet again, thinking of him going to sleep in the same bed with the same wretched woman … A woman who had no love for him … A woman who had treated him as she did. How could he? How could he choose Marian over her?

And still, through all this, she could not bring herself to hate him. As hard as she tried, it would not do … So, instead she hated Marian … The woman that through her mere existence had given her husband a way in which to punish her … An unjust punishment at that … She had never placed anyone above Guy. She had tried until the last moment to make him stay, to make him understand …Even her leaving with all of his money was Marian's fault … Had she not been in the forest, Guy would not have gone to look for her ….

Oh, yes! Marian had to pay … Because she felt hurt, because she felt slighted and because, despite everything, she wanted Guy back.

-oOo-

By the third day, Josephine's temper had gone from bad to worse, to raging mad … She was now in front of the mirror using the brush furiously. She was, usually, very fond of her hair … she liked the wavy, silky sensation of it around her body… the way it shined and made different colors in the sunlight … The heaviness of it's length made her feel grounded and part of the earth … sensual and free … And she especially liked the way Guy had always been in awe of it. The way he ran his fingers through it every chance he got, smelling it, burying his head into the nape of her neck …the shire, honest pleasure he took in watching her hands make their way through the entangled mass every morning.

But today the brush was pushed through the hair violently, tearing it, frizzling it … causing even more confusion then it had been to begin with.

While she walked into her mistress's room with careful, soft steps, Walaa' could sense the state of confusion she found herself in. She had stayed out of her way during the last few days, trying to concentrate on the task she had been set for she felt it would serve her and Josephine better.

"I have news …", she announced walking straight for her mistress's chair.

Josephine threw the brush on the table nervously and turned quickly: "What news?"

"Marian's chambermaid … live here …at Locksley … move with husband.", Walaa' said quite proud of herself. She hoped that this would help her mistress gain some sort of advantage. She did not like seeing her so helpless …

"Did you talk to her? What did she say?", Josephine asked impatiently. Chambermaids always knew interesting and not quite comfortable things about their masters. This woman could prove very useful.

"No …", Walaa' admitted. She had feared saying or doing something that might push the woman away. Diplomacy was not her strong point. Josephine had a much better way with people then she. "I thought you want do it …", she responded dryly.

This pleased Josephine. She did prefer to talk to this woman personally. After all, Walaa' might slip and forget to ask for important information. "Very well", she said turning towards the window. "Bring her to me."

"She here". Walaa' smiled to see her mistress quickly turn round and give her a look of approval. "Down in yard …".

"Good". Josephine quickly pinned her hair and grabbed the rose shawl from the bed. The cold weather was starting to get to her, and the room was a bit drafty. She hated being cold. It reminded her of the abbey, with all of its open windows … The cold had gotten into her bones then and had never left since.

Just as they were about to exit the room, Josephine grabbed Walaa's sleeve and turned her around to face her. "What about the Night Watchman? What did Archie say?"

"Nothing …", Walaa' shook her head disappointed. "The man not show…for very long time. About three months … or more. Archie find only that he wear leather mask and brown cloak …not tall man …", Walaa' said trying to remember everything he had said.

"It isn't much', Josephine thought leaning against the door. Still, it was obvious this was no outlaw. He took great pains to hide himself, so he was most likely a well known figure in Nottingham … quite possibly a noble …for peasants were many and all looked much alike and could not get the kind of combat training that this man evidently had received … On the other hand for a nobleman to oppose her husband in such a manner, the only smart way of doing it would be like this … Still, a short nobleman did not narrow the filed very much.

"Ah!". Josephine's attention was once more drawn towards Walaa' that had remembered something else. "And he go at night and give food to poor …".

Josephine rolled her eyes … "Ah!", she imitated Walaa'. "A compassionate, short nobleman … Well, how nice of him.", she concluded dismissing Walaa's statement and walking towards the staircase.

-oOo-

By the time the both of them had reached the yard, Josephine had straightened her posture, folded her hands in her lap and put on the brightest, warmest smile she possessed … "What if the woman's name?", she whispered back through her grinned teeth towards Walaa', never removing her eyes from the woman that was standing in the middle of the yard looking quite awkward.

"Agnes.", Walaa' answered remaining still and letting Josephine approach the woman alone.

Agnes saw Josephine approach and froze. She had wondered why the mistress of Locksley would want to see her ever since the woman Walaa' had come to call on her. Agnes's children and herself had been quite frightened at the sight of the one eyed, dark woman … They had long said she was a which ... How else could she look into your heart so coldly with that white eye of hers? …But upon hearing that she had been summoned to the Great Manor by Lady Gisborne herself, a quite different kind of fear overpowered the simple woman.

Years of hardship had taught her not to expect anything good from the masters. Even if Maid Marian had been kind to her, she knew full well that not all these people were the same. The idea to move to Locksley upset her terribly for she knew exactly what kind of master they would get … Lord Gisborne was a hard and cruel man … Still they moved since her husband thought it best … Gisborne paid much better wages then at Kinghton Hall, especially to skilled metal workers such as her husband was.

They had been here for almost a whole year now, and the masters had never called for them, so she naturally assumed that something must have displeased the mistress. Perhaps her children … they could be such handfuls.

She had already started trembling in anticipation and now that the lady herself was approaching she could not help but be in awe. As she walked closer, every person she passed bowed to her … Her manners and posture seemed so grand to Agnes, yet she could see the warmth and kindness her eyes bestowed on the people she acknowledged … Surely such a fine woman could not be evil.

"Ah! Finally, we meet!", Josephine said in a voice of pure excitement and put her hand on the woman's sleeve.

The contact made Agnes flinch. "Mistress!", she said bowing and kissing her hand ... "If me or any of my kin have don' anything to upset ya' …"

"Oh, hush now!", Josephine comforted the woman by placing her hand on her shoulder and speaking in a sweet, warm voice. "You have done nothing to displease me".

The woman looked up in relief and confusion all at once as Josephine helped her to sit up straight. "I have heard that you are quite new to Locksley so I thought it best to meet with you and offer you all the support you might need."

Agnes was still in shock when all of a sudden Josephine took her arm and placed it across her own guiding her towards the Manor. "Come!", she said. "We mustn't sit here for all the world to see. Come inside and we shall have supper together."

This had been a kind of closeness Agnes had never encountered in the past. No woman of high birth had ever touched her and especially in such a familiar manner. Josephine's hand felt soft to the touch … So different from her own, that was hardened by the many choirs that had accompanied her through out her life. And she smelt as nothing she had ever encountered in the past …of wild lilies. Most of the noble women she had met smelled of lavender or rose petals … but this …this was a far more pleasing smell. Still Josephine's words startled her. "No, mistress …", she said stopping in the doorway and dropping her eyes to the ground. "It wouldn't be fittin'".

Josephine smiled kindly and patiently upon her. "If I say it's fitting ... then it is."

"But the master?", Agnes replied looking into Lady Gisborne's eyes that seemed to give such ease and reassurance. It was the master that truly scared Agnes for she knew full well that he would not tolerate his wife inviting peasants to dine at his own table.

"He need not know.". "The truth is, Agnes,", Josephine continued dropping her eyes to the floor as if ashamed to admit it, "I am quite lonely and could use the company …".

Agnes had heard rumors from the manor servants that the master was neglecting his wife, although she could not understand how any man could stay away from such a woman. Even her own husband was in lust over her. She could see now how lonely the lady looked. It would do no harm to keep her company for a short while. And she could not deny that she felt very honored by the invitation. Not even Maid Marian, who had been the kindest of mistress, had invited her to the master's table.

She said no more and let Josephine lead her to the Dinning Hall. She could not help but be overwhelmed by the large, luxurious chambers as she went through them and as she sat in front of the large table, setting the napkin in her lap as she saw Josephine do, she felt as nobility herself.

"Thornton …", Josephine called out for the old servant, that had been standing by the door a little surprised by the event. Upon hearing his name, he came forth with quiet, unhurried steps.

"Yes, mistress …".

"Bring the food, please … and some wine from the cellar.", she said smiling and winking to Agnes, who felt ashamed but could not help wanting to taste wine. It wasn't every day someone like her could drink the liquor.

"Mistress …", Thornton began carefully, "the food is not yet ready."

Josephine was not pleased. The food should have been ready by now, but still this could prove useful. "Very well", she said. "Bring the wine now and the food when it is ready. What do we have for supper?".

"Meat pie, my lady …", the man responded.

"Oh …", Josephine said turning towards Agnes with a look of excitement and putting her hand over the woman's. "You are going to like this ….". "Very well, Thornton", she said turning to the servant, "you may go and bring the wine now."

The man left, but returned soon enough with the wine which he placed between the two women. He felt nervous. He knew what the master would do if he walked in on such a scene: his wife sharing a meal with a peasant and drinking his wine …He just prayed he would not come until the woman left.

Josephine took the pitcher of wine and poured Agnes a large goblet. Wine had the wonderful power of loosening people's tongues especially on a empty stomach. "So, Agnes …" , she said with a cunning smile handing the goblet to the woman that was now looking at it with greedy eyes, "tell me about your family."

-oOo-

For the next hour Josephine had to listen to various stories about the woman's brats and husband, that she knew now was named Tom. She let her talk about them, while pouring her still more wine and stirring her gently, subtly towards what she wanted to hear: Marian. She had to listen to the prizes that Agnes gave to Marian every three seconds.

"Christ's blood!", she thought. "From her account you'd think the wench was a saint!" but still by the time the food had arrived Josephine was slowly finding out something that left her astonished.

"So, you say, Lady Marian ordered a leather mask and cloak that you picked up from Glasson?", she repeated trying to keep the now very drunk Agnes focused.

Josephine sat back in her chair, seeing how she struggled to drink the wine, stuff the food in her mouth and speak at the same time. She smiled and pushed her along trying not to lose her patience.

"Yes, ", Agnes nodded putting a great piece of pie in her mouth. "I picked 'em up, along with a pair of man's breeches."

"And when was that?", Josephine asked in a sweet voice pouring the woman more wine, which she immediately started drinking.

Agnes found the wine a wonderful elixir. She felt relaxed and at ease now. The food was good as well and the mistress was so kind. "Oh, mistress … 'bout six winters since then …". Agnes reached out and took yet another piece of pie.

"Did she say why she needed the garments?"

"For a great feast … she said", Agnes told her looking up with drunken trusting eyes, giving out a great hiccup.

"A great feast, my foot!", Josephine thought. "Compassionate, short nobleman indeed". A wicked smile of triumph bloomed on her face as she put her elbows on the table and rested her chin in the palm of her hands in a meditative manner: "I've got you, Guy! I've got you!".

"Agnes … did you ever find your mistress missing during the night?", Josephine asked not looking at the woman, already planning her attack.

The response did not come so she turned towards Agnes and what she saw unbalanced her terribly. Agnes was incredibly pale all of a sudden. Sweat covered her entire face. She was holding her neck with one hand and had the other wrapped around her stomach. The pain on her face was evident and was preventing her from even screaming. Still she forced herself to answer: "There wa' one night …". She could not continue.

She started coughing and spitting blood. Convulsions overpowered her and she soon fell off the chair and to the ground. A white foam covered her mouth and she was dead.

Through all of this, Josephine did not move. She had frozen in her seat but her mind was in a state of complete alert. It took her a few seconds to realize what was happening. "It is poison", she thought. She recognized the way it worked through the body from books she had read. She moved her eyes round the table. It could not have been the wine … She had sipped wine through out the dinner …

Then her eyes stopped in front of her … Her piece of pie had remained untouched. She had been so intrigued by what Agnes told her that she did not eat. Her heart started beating ever more franticly, still she did not move.

She simply pushed the plate away from her and said looking at Agnes's body collapsed on the floor: "Well … isn't that interesting …".

Through all of her state of inner agitation she could hear Thornton coming into the room and give out a sound of terror. "Thornton …", she said in a clam, cold voice. "Who made supper today?". There was no trembling ... Not in her voice, and not through her body. She had gone numb.

The man struggled with himself. He did not want to answer.

"Thornton!", Josephine said turning her face towards him. Her voice and eyes were menacing and suddenly the old servant could sense what could happen to him if he did not answer.

"Mary …", he said in a pained voice looking down. "She was alone in the kitchen today."

Josephine rose from her seat and came straight for the door with decided steps. There was no hesitation. As she passed Thornton, she ordered in a harsh, cruel voice: "Clean that mess up!", pointing to the table ... But Thornton knew well enough what she actually meant.

Before stepping out of the Manor, Josephine stopped once more in front of the two soldiers that were there to watch her. They were trying to pretend that they were not paying attention to her. That they were there on other matters. Still, Josephine felt that finally at least one of them would be put to good use. "You!", she said pointing to one of them.

The man flinched and turned towards her. Just when he was about to say something, Josephine interrupted. "Come with me!". She passed him and started walking without looking back.

As she made her way towards Mary's house, she knew what she had to do. She felt no anticipation and no fear. Her eyes had gone cold and she kept her hands in tightly closed fists. She knew not why Mary would do such a thing and she did not care. She had made her move and failed. Now it was time to pay the consequences.

She opened the door to the small, dingy house silently and gave the soldier word to be as quiet as possible. As she walked through the small room she could see bundles and bags filled with things every where, and somewhere, in the other room, she could hear noise. She walked slowly, passing the wall and stopping in the middle.

Mary could not see her. She had her back turned towards the wall, putting some clothes in a large bag, in a hurried manner and with trembling hands.

"Are you leaving us, Mary?", Josephine asked sweetly making the older woman jump up in fear and quickly turned around. She was still holding a shawl in her hands. Her eyes were filled with terror and confusion.

"Mistress …", she said in one breathe looking down. She would have liked to continue but Josephine stopped her.

"Mary", she said folding her arms and walking slowly towards the old servant. "I will ask you a simple question. Your answer to this question", she continued in a calm voice circling her prey, "will determine if you live or die". She felt the woman flinch and smiled. "So choose your answer well … What was the poison you put in my food?"

"Mistress,", Mary responded in a whipping voice. "I am innocent … I …"

"Ah, aha, ah …", Josephine cut her off pointing her finger at Mary. "Think before you answer!"

"I … I … it was rat poison", the woman finally admitted and started to sob desperately. "Mistress, please ... forgive me! I was desperate", she tried explaining and dropped on her knees, wrapping her arms around Josephine's legs. "The master …".

"Did you do all of this by yourself?", Josephine asked unmoved by the woman's tears. She could not be moved by anything now.

"Yes … no one else …".

Just when Josephine was getting ready to ask something else, a young boy entered through the back door. He could not have been more then seven or eight years old, Josephine estimated. She remembered Mary had a son from her late husband.

"Wha' have you don' to my mother?", he asked defiantly, coming, running across the room. He fell on his knees and ripped his mother from Josephine's legs, holding her in his small arms and comforting her.

"Did the boy know?"

The woman looked up, more frightened then ever. "No!", she denied desperately, holding her boy tightly in her arms.

"Are you sure?"

"I knew!", the boy said all of sudden, his youth and strong character getting the best of him. "I knew everything! Gisborne killed my father. So we went after what he loves the most!". The hate in his eyes was very big and he spit on the ground near Josephine, only to be hit by the soldier swiftly.

His disgust was evident, Josephine observed. Still, she had to admitt the boy had spirit. She reached down and grabbed the boy's face, holding it higher and squeezing slightly. She had always been fond of children, but now … Now he was not a child. He was her enemy. "Clever boy", she said with a cold smile on her face.

Mary saw how rigid Josephine became all of a sudden and she feared the worst. Once again she grabbed on her dress and begged: "Please, mistress, he is young! He doesn't know what he is saying! Please don't kill my boy!"

Josephine smiled wickedly and grabbed her dress out of the woman's hands. She took a few steps back and spoke in a mocking voice: "You know I hadn't thought about that until this very moment. I was planning on letting him go but now that you put it like that …". Then turning to the soldier, she gave the order in a cold voice: "Kill him …".

The sounds that Mary made after that could not be described in words. They were animal, raging pain sounds as she tried to protect her child and was pushed away.

Josephine felt no satisfaction seeing the numb body of the boy dropping to the ground as a rag doll. And Mary's screams did not fill her with contentment. She felt nothing and she only thought of surviving.

Someone had threatened her life and that was something that she knew not how to handle except like this. She destroyed the source of the threat by any means possible.

Mary tried to attack Josephine, jumping up with her hands held out as claws but she was quickly grabbed by the soldier and pinned to the ground.

"Take her to the prison …", Josephine ordered. "But do it discreetly. I don't want the others to know just yet …". She turned towards the door and then stopped as if she had remembered something. She did not turn around to face the scene behind her. "Don't kill her. I promised I wouldn't kill her …. And another thing … once you're done, come back, cut his head off and bring it to me … preferably in a basket".


	21. Chapter 20: My Lady of the Manor

Chapter 20 ... and earlier then usual ... I'm impressed by me:)) Anyway, hope I didn't scare you too much with the last one and hope you like this one ...I also hope that you like my slightly crazy, hard Josephine ... There are several parts that I find are the most interesting and that I've found hard and at the same time great to write: Guy's ride back to Locksley, Josephine's speech and then there is the introduction of a new plot (that of the count ... I wonder what kind of havoc he might cause:) ) ... Anyway, you already know: reviews equal love and thank you for reading.

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Chapter 20 – My Lady of the Manor 

The soldier was directing his cart straight to Nottingham. When Lady Gisborne had given him the order to escort the prisoner to the dungeons, he knew he had to improvise. There was no proper prison cage in Locksley. Lord Gisborne had taken them all to Nottingham a short while after getting married. The man guessed so that the lady's sensibilities would not be injured … Clearly, Gisborne did not know his wife well. She had given the order to kill with so much decision and ease that the man reasoned she was capable of as much cruelty as her husband, if not more.

The boy's blood was still on his hands and he felt his gut turning around and around in agony. Of course it was easy for these people to give orders. They never got blood on their hands … Lord Gisborne had the comfort of his large, black gloves and he doubted Lady Gisborne had ever put a hand on a sword ….

And, still, his job was not done … After leaving the kitchen maid in Nottingham, he would have to go back and cut that poor creature's head off ….

He had tied Mary in the back of a hay cart, since it was the only available transport and he could hear her desperate moans and sobbing … Still he tightened his heart to them … He had his own children to feed and protect. He could not agonize over someone else's.

As they were approaching Nottingham's main gate, he saw the guard signaling him to stop. The man came out and soon recognized him:

"Oh! Cedric … It's you …". "Wha' do ya' have there?", the man asked amused to see a soldier of Gisborne's in a hay cart.

"It's a prisoner … I was instructed to take her to the dungeons", the man responded quickly. He was not up to much talk today, especially with the gate guard. He talked too much for Cedirc's liking.

"Wha' she do?", the man asked ironically while he gave the order for the gate to be lifted. "Steel one of Gisborne's chickens?".

"No.", Cedric answered coolly. "She tried to poison his wife …" and then pulled on the reigns and walked through the main gate.

The guard stood still and scratched his head in disbelief. "This is not good …".

"Wha's no good?", one of the stable grooms asked getting closer to him. He was a young lad … not more then fifteen and had always had a curious nature. He always lurked around the gate guard to hear the latest gossip. Most of the time, the man made him beg for information but this time he was quick to answer: "That woman …", he said pointing back at Mary that was now dragged out of the cart by Cedric, "poisoned Lord Gisborne's wife." … Then turning to the boy with a wicked smile, he ordered through his teeth: "Now go tell him!".

The boy faltered for a second. He did not want to do this. Most of the time he tried to stay completely out Gisborne's reach … That man scared him senseless … And now to have to tell him such news … "No, no …", he said shaking his head. "I …I …".

The guard came closer menacingly. He did not want to give such news to Gisborne either. Better the boy's neck then his, he thought … "Go now, boy!", he barked pushing him away.

The groom started walking back from the gate and towards the castle. He had no choice. "Me and my thick skull", he thought slapping himself over the head. Now he would have to tell Guy of Gisborne his wife was dead.

-oOo-

Guy did not know what was worse … Staying away from Locksley for three days or having to listen to the Sheriff for that equal amount of time. There was no reason to choose, of course… For he was enduring them both.

And even if his wife had hurt him terribly and had one of sharpest tongues he had encountered, he had to admit that she never produced as much noise as the Sheriff.

"So … you've been here for three days now, Gisborne …", the Sheriff said while tending to his birds. "Has she thrown you out?"

The mockery made Guy shift his position and fold his arms, looking away from the Sheriff. "Of course not, my lord … There were things that I had to attend to here …", he lied …

"Oh, Gisborne …please", Vasey cut him off. "You've been walking about for three days with nothing to do … So do not lie to me. Did you have a spat, hmmm?", he demanded to know , biting his lower lip. "Buy her a trinket or two …", he offered as advice, dismissing of it. "She'll be fine …".

Guy wondered just how much the Sheriff knew of women. He was always giving him advice and Guy knew very well most of it was wrong. Vasey thought of women as simple creatures … That would have been easy, Guy thought except that they weren't. They had their own ideas about what they wanted and could conjure up ways of getting it just as successfully as any man.

"My poor deluded friend …", the Sheriff continued approaching Guy and patting him on the shoulder. Guy did not like the closeness, neither did he like the Sheriff's eyes on him in this way but he grinned his teeth. "You have to keep her on a much tighter leash!", he whispered moving around Gisborne. "You must remember … women are lepers …", he began his usual speech but this time Guy stopped him abruptly and in a cold, decided voice:

"My wife is not a leper!", he said stepping away from the Sheriff and turning to face him with an icy look.

This unbalanced Vasey. He had not seen this obverted attack from Gisborne. He could usually get away with a great deal in front of his master-at-arms but this was a most unwelcome change. He had felt for some time now that he was starting to lose his grip on Guy and he had a sneaking suspicion it had something to do with that little cunning dove … He had to admit even he could see the attraction but he would not allow her to drive a wedge between him and his toy.

In his usually cunning way, the Sheriff made no visible note of Gisborne's attitude. Instead he turned away and shook his finger while passing in front of Guy: "Tsk, tsk, tsk … She's got you, my friend. But still", he continued changing his tone and slapping his hands together, "I require you both to be on the best of terms. A week from today I want you and my little dove here in the castle."

This surprised Guy. And not in a good way. He did not want Josephine near the Sheriff, at least until their problems had been resolved one way or another … "Why is that, my lord?", he asked razing his eyebrows.

"Because Gisborne …", the Sheriff replied with a wicked smile, "money … a great deal of money and power will be coming our way". "Have you heard of Lord Alessandro of Savoy?"

"The name is familiar to me". Guy was intrigued so he approached the Sheriff and stood near the window. "He's the Italian count, as I remember. He has a considerable fortune …".

"Considerable, Gisborne?". The Sheriff looked appalled. "He practically owns Naples in it's integrity …". "He is also a good friend of Prince John", he added with a glim in his eye. "I have received a letter from the 'king'", he put a mocking emphasis on the barrowed title, "announcing that Savoy is coming to London" …

Guy started grinning for he knew now what the Sheriff was up to …

"Where do you think he's going to stop along the way, Gisborne?". The Sheriff smiled wickedly as he thought of his guest. "He is a man of parties and gamble …those Italians", he said laughing.

"Ah!", Guy concluded. "The changes to your Great Hall".

"Exactly, Gisborne!". "We are going to give the count all the entertainment that we can muster up … keep him happy for King John and perhaps get money in the process. What could be better?" … "So …", he whispered, "I want you here with your dove. I have invited the other lords with their wives ... but all of them are useless lepers … Not one to choose from except for yours …I'm sure she will manage to extract more then just a yawn from the count and his guests …. I want her to act as a host of sorts …".

Guy did not know exactly what the Sheriff was implying with this but he agreed to it … It was very sensible to be on good terms with John's friends and especially those of Savoy's stature.

-oOo-

The poor unfortunate groom had been searching for Lord Gisborne for some time now, when he finally spotted him. He had his back turned but there was no mistaken that leather figure. He was obviously very busy discussing something with his trusted man, William Shepard. There was another that the boy did not like. There was too much cunning in that man, he thought. He knew he was Gisborne's eyes and ears every where and he always felt uncomfortable having him close.

The boy did not want to disturb. He knew the consequences of such an action as he had discovered them through others and on his own. But he also knew that the news must be delivered fast, otherwise he would have Gisborne's wrath upon him, which could be even worst.

So he finally conjured all the courage he could at the moment and slowly approached Gisborne: "My lord …", he said with a broken voice and looking down into the ground … But there was no answer … He cleared his throat and tried again, this time more decidedly: "My lord!".

Guy turned around aggravated …He had heard the boy the first time. Didn't he know he was meant to wait? "What do you want boy?", he asked in a harsh, menacing voice.

"My lord … I … I", the boy struggled to get it over with under the icy look of Gisborne, "I bring news from Locksley …".

Gisborne was, at the very least, intrigued. "What of it?", he asked getting closer. Had Hood broken in, he wondered. It could be possible … perhaps Hood had robed his home …Then his face turned darker and his eyes started burning. Perhaps she had gotten away ... perhaps she had stolen the rest of his money and ran. Could she have done that? For the whole world to know? Could she have shamed him so?

He closed his eyes quickly, thinking of it. "What of it?", he asked again this time razing his voice and grabbing the boy by the arm and shaking him.

The boy crumbled under Guy's iron grip. "Your wife …", he gasped, "your wife is dead …".

The word sent a sudden sharp current through Guy's body, leaving him breathless. His grip on the boy lessened and his hand dropped down numb. "Dead!", his mind was screaming. His vision became blurred and he kept hearing a loud, undefined sound in his ears. He wanted to make sense. He wanted to ask questions but he found he could not speak.

"She was poisoned …", the boy added quietly. Shepard gave him a quick nod to leave and so he did, as fast as he could.

"Poisoned …", Guy repeated dumbly and then without even realizing started walking towards the stables. First he walked but soon enough he started running, pushing people out of the way, shoving the groom aside for taking to long to prepare his horse. All this without uttering even a word. Now and again undefined sounds would escape his mouth … violent, animalic sounds but nothing else. His mind was too busy to bother with speech. He finally got his horse ready and jumped on it, storming out of Nottingham.

-oOo-

All those nights ago when he had sharpened his dagger thinking of killing her, he had thought it would bring him peace. He thought he would feel avenged …

Now he thought how on earth he had been able to contemplate such a thing. He did not know. He did not know this feeling of hollowness then.

His body felt empty, his head ready to burst and it seemed to him that his heart was bleeding. He felt a throbbing pain in his chest that kept him constantly out of breath.

"So this is what it's like …", he thought. This is how he's going to live from now on. A hallow body that is completely unaware of its emptiness and keeps insisting upon hurting and screaming out in agony: "Dead!"

"How can you die without me knowing it?", he wondered. Shouldn't his body have announced such a loss? When you lose your arm do you not feel it? But it did not ... The only thing his body was urging was that he reach Locksley …

"Get to Locksley!", he thought. But the road took too long. It had never seemed so long to Guy in the past. But when you go back to encounter the motionless body of your entire existence, there is no time …There's just pain.

As soon as he could see the Manor, he stopped the horse and jumped off. He started running desperately, throwing his gloves away in the process, as if they were slowing him down. He wanted to see her. He wanted to hold her in his arms and take her away from anyone else that might have touched her until he had arrived. He wanted to take her to their bedchamber and swear to her there that he loved her.

He thought of the last words he had spoken to her. Words spoken in anger. … "_Well, I'm off_ …", he had said. He never thought that his last words to her would be so stupid and childish.

He expected to find the Manor drenched in silence and black mourning, as was only fitting. What he found was not at all that.

The yard was filled with people, house serfs and peasants … all of Locksley seemed to be in this yard. They were rather surprised but at the same time happy. And in the middle of the yard three long, large tables had been joined together in a square. Thornton and a few other maids started bring out three large, steamy pots of what seemed to be stew and placed them in the middle of the square. People started cheering and made their way to the tables. It was a feast!

No one even noticed Guy standing close by. He could not move so he simply watched all of these people in the middle of his yard and could not believe it. They could not be here to celebrate his wife's death … Surely not. He must be imagining all of this … But the more he looked, the more it became apparent that this was reality.

Just as he was getting ready to pull out his sword and take all 200 of them at once, she stepped out of the house. For a moment he thought he was dreaming. Her beautiful face, her precise, soft step … the undulating movement of her hips … He had dreamt of all of it so many times that he thought it possible but as she approched him, he knew she was real. All questions were momentarily left aside. All he wanted was to hold her to him and never let go but she did not get close enough for him to do that … and his knees were trembling so hard, he feared he might fall if he attempted walking.

She seemed in control and composed to everyone, except him. He saw her eyes moving quickly from one side to the other, the tight manner in which she kept her hands. Her jaw was pressed down and her face was of wax. "She must be scared out of her mind!", he thought.

"Ah!", she said looking over Guy's shoulder, not even acknowledging him. "Come with me!", she commanded, calling him with her fingers.

Guy looked back and saw one of his soldiers standing right behind him with a tall basket in his hands. He asked Guy with his eyes what to do, and he gave him leave to fallow his wife towards the tables.

Guy also fallowed, having regained some of his composure back. She seemed fine. Disheveled but fine. He would have to put that groom through a thorough flogging for having scared him so … But at the moment he was much more interested in what his wife was planning.

Josephine stood in the middle of the center table looking over all the people that had been sited. When she was sure she had everyone's attention, she began speaking:" I'm very glad you could all come and share this meal with me", she said. The soldier who was standing behind her handed her the basket … "Ah! Thank you!". She placed it in front of her and continued: "As mistress of Locksley I will take care of each and everyone of you". She put her hand over her chest and nodded while looking into the eyes of the people that were watching her carefully. "And in return ..,", she said smiling, "I expect respect and loyalty from each and everyone of you." Her tone changed suddenly from hospitable to deeply sadden: "There has been a rather unfortunate even today. Someone poisoned my food …". She paused long enough to see people starting to squirm and even some spitting food out of their mouths … "Not to worry …", she whispered in reassurance. "I have ordered fresh food for all of you so I think you will find it quite adequate. The matter has been resolved and the person in question has said she acted alone so do not worry …There will be no measures taken against you." As if that had been the end, she turned around and took a few steps towards the house. People seemed relieved and some even returned to the food. But she returned, folding her arms and looking as if she had forgotten something: "However,", she began again, only this time in a menacing, cold voice, "if I should ever find out that any of you had anything to do with this or if you try something like this again, I will be merciless.". She leaned in, looking straight into their faces, moving her eyes around the table. "I will strike against you, your homes, your belongings, your loved ones … no one will be safe! This I promise you!", and with that, she took the basket and spilled it's content in front of the shocked peasants that could not keep their eyes off of the head of Mary's son… No one ate that night.

-oOo-

"Well … now that was an exit!", Guy said standing in the doorway of Josephine's bedchamber. And for the first time in a very long time, there was no mockery in his voice. His tone was warm and he had a large, genuine smile on his face.

She was alive, he thought … and he could not help feeling proud of how she had handled the situation. She seemed so strong and decided. And he was more then sure the peasants had gotten the right message. She was a quite remarkable woman and he loved her … He could not deny that any longer.

She looked at him with tired, annoyed eyes from her dressing table. She was weak both in body and spirit. She had not eaten anything all day, even if Walaa' had brought her some bread and cheese earlier … and she had killed a child. "I'm not in the mood, Guy …Come stick pins in a few hours. I'll be more responsive then.". He looked good, she observed. She would have wanted to see bruises and scratches on him left there by Marian, but all she could see were her own marks … the ones she had left three days ago.

He approached her with concern and leaned against the table, attempting to put his hand on her face. "How are you feeling?"

She tilted her head back as to avoid his hand and started laughing. "Is that why you came here?", she asked getting up from her chair and heading to the bed. "To see how I was doing?". "Bloody perfect …". She laid on the bed, streching her limbs in the same manner a cat would.

She was beautiful, he thought. He came closer to the bed only to notice how many blankets she had placed upon it. She was also dressed with very warm garments. All this even if the fire was burning high. "Why are you dress like this?", he asked placing his hand on her belly.

She shifted her position, feeling uncomfortable by the question and this unexpected closeness. She didn't understand what he wanted from her. "I'm cold … In the abbey the windows would stay open through out winter and we were never dressed in anything warm … so I was always cold. I swore I would never feel like that again", she said looking away from him.

His hand moved upwards on her body and he leaned his whole body closer to her. His mouth lingered softly over her ear. "I thought I lost you", he said in a pained voice.

She turned her head towards him and with a finger removed his hand from her face, looking coldly into his eyes. "What makes you think you ever had me?"

She thought she saw real pain in his eyes as he straightened his position. Still he kept looking at her. And this time it was his eyes that were pleading with her … So she moved to the other side of the bed and turned her back on him.

Soon … all too soon she felt the pressure of his body upon the mattress vanish and he closed the door softly behind him.


	22. Chapter 21: Watching the Watchman

Sorry for taking so long to update this ... but I just got a new job so I'm a bit busy at the moment. I will still be writing, though .. wouldn't think of giving it up ... As a matter of fact I'm actually wrting another fanfic now that combines North&South with Gone with the Wind (I know .. crazy!) ...Anyway hope you like this chapter and I'm planning on updating about once a week from now on sinc eit's taking me longer to write the chapters (with my job and all)

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Chapter 21 – Watching the Watchman

Guy watched his wife very closely that morning. The fire was burning high and she was dressed in thick, warm garments. Yet she was shivering like a leaf.

He had given special instructions for more wood to be brought and to keep up the fire all day long so she would feel comfortable. The heat was almost suffocating and Guy's leather clothes were not helping to keep him cool …. All to the contrary, he felt like a boiled partridge … But he bore it in the hopes that it would relieve his wife of the spasms and grayish complexion … But it did not seem to be helping.

Her position on the chair was rigid and the hand slightly trembled every time she brought the fork up to her mouth. She could sense he was watching her and she tried desperately to conceal her condition. The last thing she wanted was for him to pity her. She would rather die a thousand deaths.

"Josephine, what is wrong with you?". Guy's eyes hanged over her in the most protective manner he was capable of. He wanted to hold her tightly in his arms and see if that, if the most loving, intimate touch from him would make her stop shivering but his pride did not allow it. Her rejection still stung inside him and her icy treatment in the days that fallowed did not go unnoticed. Still he could not hide his concern.

"Nothing …", she said looking away from him. "I just don't like winter". She pulled her shawl tightly around herself.

This was one of her cryptic answers. It revealed nothing and she endangered nothing by giving it. Guy had come to know these answers very well in the last days. Every time he tried to get close, every time he worried for her, every time he waited for her to come to him, her answers came as rocks, hitting him, pushing him away.

It grieved and angered him. He had not fully forgiven her for what she had done, but he was willing to make an effort. And for her to behave in such a way, hardly seemed fair to Guy.

"Fine! Be like that!", he thought. If she could play the cold, indifferent game so could he. After all, he had practiced on it all his life. He gave a small sigh of resignation and returned to his plate, determined not to speak again.

But his wife had other plans. All her thoughts were concentrated on the image of her husband in bed with Lady Marian Fitzwalter. And for that she demanded retribution. She could not see the look of concerned love she was meant to receive. All she could see was the pain. Things had gotten so mangled up in her head that every time she would look at Guy, she would see Robert behind him, taunting her, confusing her. And then there was that blasted coldness … It had come back and it was all around.

She wanted to pass that on … Why should she be the only one barring it? And who better to share it with then him? After all, they were husband and wife … at least on paper, if not in fact … They were meant to share everything. That thought brought a cruel smile to her face as she looked up at him with cold eyes, ready to speak.

But Guy did not allow it. He had come to know her so well that he knew she was about to say something that would make it even harder for him to forget, and he did not want her uttering it. So he spoke: "Ahhh … I almost forgot. Next week we are going to Nottingham … as the Sheriff's guests".

Her face changed suddenly. The thought of Vasey was not as easily contemplated as that of hurting him. She knew the Sheriff and distrusted him with the intuition only a woman like her could possess. The man was evil.

She and Guy were rotten, true enough. They hurt each other, attacked and planned but she knew full well they were incapable of destroying one another … The Sheriff, on the other hand, knew not of such limitations. "I will not go", she said decidedly. "And neither should you."

"This is very important", Guy answered through his teeth, feeling the blood rush to his head. "It will be good for us to be there and you will not oppose me on this matter. You will come!". He hit the table and raised his voice menacingly. He did it knowing full well it would have no effect on her. Apparently, shock treatment such as this was not foreign to her.

"Is that menace you're conveying?", she asked with irony. "How will force me? Is it going to be torture?". She was finally awaken from her cold state and was now awaiting his violent response so she could strike again. It did not come. Instead he remained silent and watched her with a mix of disappointment and pain.

This made her soften …She leaned back into her chair and spoke in a slow, warm voice: "Nothing that comes from that demented midget is ever good ... There's always a catch, Guy". Her eyes were now looking straight at him and she was truly concerned.

"He's single-minded …", Guy blurred out, turning his head away from her.

"He's a snake! The moment you trust him, he'll kill you!". How could he not see that? Why did he still cling on to this? … But she knew why. It was the same as her and Robert. Loneliness weakens you to the point where you let in the very people that end up destroying you. Still, she knew that the Sheriff would not kill Guy. He wanted something from him. Something that Guy would never give him … and she knew exactly what that was.

"Besides,", she said after a while. "I haven't a stitch to wear."

"Excuse me?"

"I have no expensive garments, no jewelry … I left it all back in London, remember?", she asked coldly.

Guy did remember. Why did she have to bring up London again? "And you expect me to buy you new ones?", he asked ironically. "I must apologize, dearest one, but your London exploits have left me with no financial means to invest in your wardrobe… But fear not, there's always Isabelle's clothing.", he suggested with mocked assistance.

The mere suggestion aggravated her to no end. She threw the napkin on the table and rose abruptly from her seat. "Do you expect me to wear those ridiculous rags in front of all the nobility of Nottingham? I will not!", she refused categorically. "I will be laughed at. I will not go!"

Her response made Guy stand up and make his way to her with giant steps. He grabbed her arm and pulled her near him intent on making her frightened this time. He succeeded. "You will go! … And it's either in Isabelle's clothing or I will drag you there and throw you in the middle of the yard naked! You know me well enough to know I mean it!".

His voice was threatening and she knew what he could do in anger. She would have no choice but go. And now she felt the desire to hurt him even more. "Tell me, husband …", she enquired in a suddenly calm voice, "have you found the Night Watchman?".

The question seemed least of it odd to Guy. It had nothing to do with the subject at hand. Still, that did not unbalance him so much since his wife had this way of changing her state at will, to best serve her purpose. What really puzzled him was the look of triumph she had in her eyes. What did she know that he didn't?

"What of him?", he asked, only to have her laugh and pull out from under his hand.

"What of _him_, indeed!". "It was just brought to my attention that I was not the first one to steel your money.", she said walking about the room, putting distance between them. "Did you punish him as you did me?", she asked sweetly.

Guy could not believe that she was comparing herself to the Night Watchman. That man meant nothing to him, were as she meant everything. "I stabbed him.", he answered coolly.

"Yes … yes. But not well enough. Not quite well enough", she taunted.

It was true. The Watchman had lived and struck again after that, although not as often and not for some time now …She was still smiling to herself, looking into the fire.

"What is it, Josephine?", he asked dryly, sitting down. "Come! Out with it!", he challenged.

She finally looked at him, her eyes filled with sad compassion. Was there mockery as well? He could not tell. She spoke softly: "You showed her your money that day, didn't you? Priding yourself on what you had achieved, on what you could offer …wanting her to understand. But she didn't, did she?". She paused as she began to approach his chair.

He shook his head. No, she had not. He remembered that day and the look of confusion on her face ... but what did this all mean? "Marian?", he asked whispering.

"How could she do that?", she said placing her hands on the back of his chair and lowering her head near to his ear. "Did she not know what it meant? Did she not know that your whole life could be found in that room? Everything you had lost ... and everything that you had given up?"

Guy could not speak anymore. How did she know all of this? How had she guessed it?

"No!", she continued. "She did not know, nor did she care. She did not care then and she did not care when she creped back into your house and stole your money!"

"No!", he answered suddenly. Everything she had said was true but this no. He knew it could not. "Marian is not the Night Watchman."

She did not seem unbalanced by his refusal to see things, but continued. "Doesn't it seem odd to you that the short, physically frail Night Watchman has vanished just at the same time as you encaged Marian in that house … or that exactly after you stab the Night Watchman, Marian had a mysterious riding accident, or whatever silly excuse they gave you?".

"No …", he continued, less sure of himself, refusing to think that he had been bested by a woman. Still, his wife was right. The coincidence was too great. And all this time, he could have seen what had taken his wife only a few days to discover … But then again, the past had proven that she was far more clever then him. "But it could not be … how would she …". All sorts of questions flooded him.

Josephine waited for the pain in his voice. The pain of discovering that the woman he seemed so in awe of, had done this to him. But there was no pain there. Only mere curiosity and confusion, while he sorted the facts … An immense sense of relief came over her. "You know what you have to do to be sure …", she said in a tone of confidence. "Test her and find out."

He nodded. It was exactly what he was thinking and he had in mind the perfect plan.

She made a move towards the door, intent on leaving him alone, when he grabbed her hand gently. The warmth of his large hand over her wrist sent a soft wave through her frosted body, and for a moment, just one moment, she was not cold anymore. She was brought back by his unspoken call and looked into his eyes.

"How did you know?", he asked and she knew full well he was not talking about the Watchman … "I don't know …", she answered simply. "I see you."

He watched as she broke away from his hand, but still kept that familiar warmth in her eyes, as she quietly left the room. "I see you", he said back to her … He knew now why Josephine had not robbed the fortune room.

"Where is she?", Gisborne asked the guard at Marian's door.

"She's sleeping, my lord.", the man answered quickly.

Guy grinned with evil mischief, pressing on the door knob. "Well, we can't have that", he whispered back at the guard, winking.

"Marian …", he said softly walking towards the bed where the figure slept. There was no answer. He did not expect there to be one. He reached the end of the bed and with one swift move pulled the covers away, exposing Marian in her nightshift.

She jumped up, frightened and instinctively tried to cover herself. The covers were out of reach so her hands fumbled to protect the flesh underneath. Gisborne looked angry and cold. Was this the day? Was this the day he would force himself on her? She had wondered when it would come … She tried to remain cool: "What are you doing here?", she asked in a collected, yet angry voice.

Guy gave her one of his half smirks and answered mockingly: "I was bored, dear Marian, and I wish you to entertain me."

"Sir, you are mistaken if you think that I am your pet ... to do with me as you like. I will not submit to your will …".

Those were brave words, Guy thought. And she seemed collected as a soldier in battle. But still he had the tools to unbalance her … "Come, come …", he said grabbing her by the arm and dragging her to her feet. "Think of your father and be a good girl!".

Marian ripped herself away from his grip but remained silent.

"Put this on!", he ordered throwing her a random dress he found laying around and leaned back to watch her.

She turned her back on him. If he was going to do this, she would not give him any satisfaction. She stood fully clothed as he approached her. "After you …", he whispered in her ear, extending his hand towards the door in invitation.

They stepped out of the room, down the stairs and out into the yard. As Marian looked around, she could see a lot of people that had gathered around what seemed to be a delimited area where a very large, half naked man stood. From his physical form and the way he was holding the rather large sword, he was evidently a soldier.

"What are all these people doing here?", she asked fearing the answer as Guy's steady step was pushing her from behind, towards the center.

"They're here to see the spectacle …", Guy answered cryptically and turned her around to face him: "They're here to see you!", he said putting a dull sword in her hand. "Don't disappoint them" and with that he pushed her into the ring.

He remained on the edge, as soldiers gathered around the square as to prevent her from running out. The people gathered behind them, eager to see what was going to happen. Some there because they loved Lady Marian and feared for her life, and others simply so they could be entertained ... In any case, most of them started chanting soon after the fight began.

Began was a rather hopeful way of putting it. Instead, it was mostly the soldier running around after Marian, who was trying to avoid his blows without letting on anything. She had guessed by now that Gisborne knew. She wondered how he had found out, but that was less important. But if she would remain still and manage to avoid the fight long enough, he could not prove anything.

She took advantage of the fact that the soldier was much larger then her and as such he would tire more quickly. She just needed to ware him out. But soon enough, she understood that there was nowhere to run. Every time she ran to one of the corners, arms of steel would push her right back in … and every time the man would catch her, he would strike. She ended up with several cuts along her arms that started to sting terribly.

She still lured the man in and avoided him at the last minute, until her own quickness faltered and his large body came in contact with her own, throwing her to the ground. Before she could move, the man lifted his sword and dropped it menacingly upon her head … and then she did the unthinkable … She lifted her own dull sword, up above her head and defended herself impeccably. Before the man knew what hit him, she had struck him between his legs making him loose his balance and crouch in pain … Once she had started, Marian found she could not stop. She had never been a violent person, unless provoked but the long days and nights of imprisonment, away from her father and from Robin had created a lot of frustration and anger inside her that she now took off on this mountain of a man …until he lay at her feet semi-unconscious. She stood still, deaf to the sounds of cheering around her, breathing heavily … and then a sudden blow to the back of the head knocked her down and left her motionless on the hard, cold ground.

Gisborne's shadow towered over her and his eyes warned of things to come.

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Marian66, DeanParker - plssssssssssssssssssss, don't kill me! 


	23. Chapter 22: Images of forest life

Sorry for not updating sooner!!!!!!!!!!!!!! Been really busy and hardly slept in the past few days .. but anyway here is chapter 22 ...It's a split ... the first part is about something that might seem random now but it will become very important in the next chapters ... and the second part is really a way of ending the whole Knighton Hall episode ... I've also written it in the hopes that DeanParker and Marian66 might be persuaded to stop ploting my demise ... Well, here it goes!

ps: plsssssssss don't give up on me. I know i'm not updating as often as before but I have no intention of giving this story up until I've reached the end

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Chapter 22 – Images of forest life 

It was early morning and the forest was submerged in an irrey, unseatteling silence … The fog was slowly clearing away as he moved through the leaves covered path, dragging the slender, naked body behind him.

He was a tall, strong man … The thick, raven beard covered most of his face and two black, hallow eyes searched frantically through the surrondings, searching for a place.

Giving her up would be hard … She had been his toy for the last three days and he had enjoyed it terribley … but he knew he had to. He had to leave her somewhere where she could be found so that others might know of him and fear what he could do …

The thought brought about a feeling of complete pride … He was strong and he had done it. And he would shove it in the face of every one of those people that looked at him as mud on their shoes.

He finnaly found a clearing at the edge of the forest … The increase in light would always strike him when he came out of his hiding place and the brightness hurt his eyes causing him to shrugg, but only for a moment.

He quickly took the body in his arms and placed it reverentley on a bed of leaves …He sat for a while, keeping his legs wraped tightly to his chest, and looked at her. From time to time he reached and rearranged strands of her hair so that they may be placed around her body in the exact manner he wished. He changed the position of her arms and legs several times until he felt satisfied and remained still to admire his work. She was so beautiful in her death, much more then she had been alive … She had screamed and cried and begged … He hated when they cried but it also fuelled him on.

He ran his rugged, large hand over her body once more ... his thick, dark skin contrasting with her soft, white one. She had been his ever since he had killed her but now he would have to give her up.

The separation hurt but the smallest of sounds coming from the road made him flinch and quickly stand up …He ran back, deep into the forest leaving behind a dead noble woman, dishonored and exposed in death. It was some time now since he began and already he had a name … He was the Sherwood Butcher.

-oOo-

Oblivious to what was going on only a few miles away , the Hood camp was slowly but surely coming back to life after a wet, chilling night of uncomfortable sleep.

Their clothes were covered in a wet stillness that clang to their bodies. The damp was everywhere, no matter how hard they tried to rid themselves of it.

The water was in their skin and hair, reaching even the most sheltered corners. Even if they kept their clothes by the fire they never seemed to be dried enough to make them fell comfortable.

Their limbs hurt and they had to spend a few minutes every day stretching and walking about, in a mere attempt to shake off the dull pain.

Most of them coughed excessively through out the day and had different sized marks left by insects which names escaped them.

Living in the forest and fighting for England did not seem as brave and noble an enterprise as it had when they first started, especially since England did not seem to want their help.

Still they pressed on. There was an acute lack of choice: they were outlaws and as such they had a choice between living in the forest and surrendering to the Sheriff. And none of them had taken leave of their senses to that degree as to do the latter.

And then there was Robin. He was so dead set on protecting King Richard's land, even in his prolonged absence, that he had made an ideal out of it … and with him, he had made it for the rest of them as well.

In front of the world, and even in their own eyes, Robin Hood and his merry men might have seemed a gang of equal men, but the truth was they were living a secret dictatorship under the tight rule of a young man that had lost his home and position and had crafted another one out of ideas and dreams.

But no one from his gang could see that. All they saw was strength and courage, the kind they could fallow. That was the true strength of Robin Hood: he was convincing.

Robin himself had seen the king only twice in his life and had never received a kind word from him, but he spoke of him with such conviction and admiration, that the gang was certain that they must have been close friends and that everything would be all right the moment the king would return.

Only Much knew the truth, but in typical fashion he believed everything Robin said, striking truth out as false. Even now that he had just awoken from his sleep, his eyes searched eagerly for his master.

He sat in a corner, mumbling unhappily against the cold, rainy weather: "Why does it have to be so cold? I liked the cave better … Where is Robin?", he whined as if Robin could somehow fix the weather. Although, in Much's mind, he probably could.

The others did not pay Much any attention. They were already used to his tantrums and they preferred to keep minding their own business. John sat close to the fire, rearranging some spits and placing much of their clothes close to the yellow flame that promised infinite warmth but so often disappointed. Will and Alan were going about making more arrows since there could never be enough and Djacq was making yet another ointment against the bugs that plagued them day and night.

Much had never been one of the favorite gang members and deep in their heart of hearts, all the others tried to stay away from him. They did not trust him as they did each other. They knew full well that everything they would entrust in him would immediately reach the ears of Robin … and that was something that was not recommended sometimes. They all had secrets from Robin … Nothing too damning or unforgivable ... just things they preferred to keep from him. Like Alan's decision to keep a minimum amount of the earnings for himself, Will's assistance of his brother with money and everything that he might need, John's yearnings to see his son and wife that surpassed his desire to help England and Djaq's bitter hatred of King Richard. None of them trusted Much with all of this, instead choosing to trust and shelter each other in their independent thoughts.

Much's desires were not secret or complex. He wanted King Richard to return. He wanted the lands that Robin had promised and above all else he wanted his master to be happy and proud of him.

All the others were free men, even if they had lived in poverty most of their lives, and as such they could not understand Much. He could not give up his serf frame of mind. All his life he had been taught that the master comes first and that he must strive to make him happy … Much had taken that to heart and stuck with it all his life … He was absolutely dependent on Robin … His life without him would not make sense and that was something that the others did not understand and a responsibility Robin of Locksley was not even aware of.

Much needed to know where Robin was at all times … It was the only way he could feel anchored … And now he searched for him trying to make sense of his day.

But Robin was not there … For a long time now, he didn't seem to be there. Even when he was physically in the camp, he was miles away from it in reality. His mind, his soul wondered back through the forest, passed the oak tree at the entrance, through the scattered, dingy houses on the way and straight into Knighton Hall.

The image of Marian's bed chamber was forever plastered into his head and he could not help but close his eyes ever so often, picture it and draw in the faint smell of roses that his mind would always conjure up when thinking of her.

England did not seem to matter so much to him now. The pain of the people around him did not form such a deep, vivid image inside him as it had done in the past. Now, only the memory of Marian being dragged away from him, disheveled and overcome haunted his every dream.

He spent hours upon hours in the mere vicinity of the Manor (or as close as Gisborne would allow), walking back and forth, unable to keep still but unable to leave. He hoped to see but a glimpse of her … yet nothing. Her prison was so thick that no one could see through it. He hurt … every bone, every breath … every day spent without her was a day further from her.

At least, when he had been in the Holy Land, he had the comfort of knowing she was safe. But now, it was different. She was in constant danger and at the mercy of the very man that had wanted to possess her. The thought of Gisborne forcing himself on Marian would almost send him into a madman's rage. But how could it be otherwise?

He knew what kind of man Gisborne was. He was more then sure he had done something to her, hurt her beyond healing … He was quite sure his beautiful, caste maiden was no more.

Of course, it did not matter to Robin if she had been tainted. He would love her just the same and would do anything to save and avenge her. He would give his life's blood for it.

Oh, how many times he had wanted to kill Gisborne! He watched him every time he came at Knighton Hall, every time he left, when he traveled to Nottingham … Every single time his trusted hands could have killed him … But Gisborne had already thought of that … A long time ago he had sent a message into the forest that if something were to happen to him, Marian would be killed on the spot.

So Robin stood in the shadows, his hands itching to send that arrow straight through Gisborne's heart (if he had one), and bit down hard on the inside of his jaw. He knew he was watching … Ever so often when he came to Knighton Hall, he would send a triumphant smirk in his general direction. And yet, Robin could do nothing.

He had been away from Knighton Hall for three days and now his feet were trailing long, hurried strides towards that purgatory place where all his hopes laid. His legs stepped hard into the muddy terrain, through the whispering leaves on the ground.

All around him the silence of the forest watched him with hungry, crazy eyes. There was no privacy in the forest. Once you lived in it you could see the eyes watching from the shadows: old enemies, demons, loved ones … every last one was there and your life became the public spectacle of all.

At first Robin had been haunted by this realization … but now he had come to politely ignore his shadows and refused to face them any longer. They became mere decoration in a slightly claustrophobic universe.

He scratched his ever growing beard nervously. Everything seemed to itch these days. The combination of dirt, leaves and branches did not make for such a romantic bed as he had thought previously. Marian certainly did not find it so when she had been with him. He remembered how miserable she was in the forest, without the commodities that she had been used to. She never complained, of course. She was far too strong for that but still he knew ...

Even so, the forest was far better then the alternative, which was what she was living now. He had to reach her soon. He increased his steps to almost running … towards her … to her.

He arrived to the place at the same time as every day he would come here. His footsteps knew the direction with almost no intervention from him and now he found himself once more on top of the hill looking down on the Manor of Knighton Hall … But today was not like everyday, and Robin's eyes widened and a familiar light gleamed in them … a light that had not been there for a quite a while … hope.

The yard at Knighton Hall, that had been full of soldiers dressed in hard, steel amour was now completely empty … The horses stood in their stable quiet and unattended by anyone. There were no servants coming in and out of the Manor as they would normally. Only a soft wind swept through the place …There was nothing there but peaceful silence.

"What could have happened?" was the question on Robin's mind. He wondered if some sort of emergency had sent Gisborne and all his men out of Knighton. He did not stop to think about the implications that might have on the whole of England and if it had anything to do with King Richard. All he could see was an opportunity … A unplanned, unforeseen opportunity. And he could not waste it!

Then his mind stopped on the possibility of this being a trap meant for him. He knew Gisborne's knowledge of him was rather extensive. After all he had never made a secret out of his temper and intentions. Gisborne must know what he would do in a situation such as this.

He spent about 30 seconds thinking about this, before trailing his steps down the hill and towards the manor, his impulsive temper getting the best of him once more. Robin could strategize and plan all he wanted. He could be cold and implacable when the situation required it, but never when it came to her … Where Marian was concerned, his feelings would always win over his better judgment … As was only right.

He creped towards the house, using the shadows that the sun threw to the ground as disguise, staying as far away from the windows as possible.

He knew that if this was a trap, Gisborne would be waiting for him at the servant's entrance since it was obscure and hidden from the evident view. But he had a secret that only he and Marian knew. He would always get into the Manor using the structure under her window. He had done it since he was ten years old and he would do it now once again.

He walked carefully, hiding behind the bushes checking if there was anyone in the vicinity, watching out for him. But there was no one, so he advanced carefully.

He made his way up quickly, jumping on the ledge and opening the window with a soft, controlled kick as to not create noise.

Marian's room was empty. The bed was made and a quiet stillness of dust and light sat through it, making him acutely aware that the room had been unoccupied for a while. He looked through the drawers, in the clothing chest … all were empty.

He sat a few moments with his ear against the door, checking for any familiar chatter noises or movement. There was none.

He slowly opened the door and made his way down the stairs and through the Manor. At first his movements were quiet and controlled, careful to detect a presence that could send him in a defensive position but after a while his muscles relaxed and he walked through the house with a feeling of security … But it was a bitter security and an apparent relaxation … for the house was empty and Marian was no more.

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Yes, yes ... I know ... no Guy or Josephine in this one ... but next chapter I promise Guy, Josephine and the Sheriff ... all in a familiar scene that I've put my personal touch on:) 


	24. Chapter 23: The Count and the snake

Sorry for the long wait. It's Christmas and all. Hope you like this chapter and those ploting my death find in their hearts to let me live!

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Chapter 23 - The Count and the Snake 

Guy had awaken very early that morning. He proceeded to wash his face and strap himself in his clothes. The black, leather ensemble was weighing heavy on him today … for he was in Nottingham.

He was occupying the chamber that had been reserved for him ever since he had started working for the Sheriff. It was a large, very comfortable room … one of the best in the castle, Guy had prided himself once … But there was no pride today.

The room was still appropriate. The large fire place was sending comfortable warmth through the entire surroundings, large fur rugs covered most of the stone floor and the bed was large and inviting. Everything a room should be.

If he was to be completely honest with himself, Guy had to admit that it was the bed that caused his displeasure this morning. For there was one crucial thing missing from it …his wife.

She had been given a room but a few doors away from his. He had made sure she had more then enough fire wood since her condition had not improved significantly. She was still shivering like a leaf and he hated knowing her in discomfort. He hoped the wood would at least help her somewhat but he wished he was the one warming his beautiful wife and not some lumber.

He knew full well that her place was by his side and in his bed. He could not deny the need his body was so diligently screaming for but he wanted her to be the one to come to him.

He wanted her to protest against the idea of separate rooms. He wanted her to beg him to take her back. It needn't be long. He would have given in at the first touch of her hand and "please" that would have come out of her mouth. He was not searching for humiliation any more. He wanted reassurance and a chance to show he had forgiven her. But you can't forgive someone that does not seem to want your forgiveness anymore.

She refused him that desire. He was not arrogant enough not to know that she had guessed what he wanted of her. But she did not seem to care. She simply took it all as he gave it. She went to her chamber on the first day they had come there, dressed in Isabelle's clothing as he had ordered and had not even touched him since then.

He never thought she would actually use those horrible, faded garments. They were hardly appropriate. She seemed more like a servant than the wife of the second most important man in Nottingham. He had suspected she would take gold out of the fortune room and buy herself clothes. After all, she did have a key.

It would have given him a chance to pretended to be angry and then to take her to his bed. He gave a smirk at the thought while he laid back into his chair.

It seemed that this was the only way he was capable to have her these days without giving in. If it was done as a punishment, he could pretend that he had not forgiven her. But he knew perfectly well that the next time he would take her to his bed, it would be forever. Once he would have her there, he would never let go, not even if she wanted him to. He needed her too much and in his mind that gave him the right to be selfish.

But until that moment occurred, they would continue this cat and mouse game that he was becoming increasingly tired of.

-oOo-

Guy was directing his long strides towards the Sheriff's personal quarters, where he had been summoned since early in the morning. Guy always thought it best to give the Sheriff his moments and do as he said but that did not mean he had gone out of his way to go to him this morning.

He had taken his time taking care of things that needed immediate assistance and even prolonged actions in order to not seem too eager … after all the fact that he was working for the Sheriff, did not mean Vasey was his superior in any way.

He paused a moment in front of the large wooden door, taking in a deep breath and preparing himself for the aggravation he was most likely to feel inside. However nothing could have prepared him for what he found once he stepped in the large, dark chamber.

He could hear the water splashing long before he had fully opened the door, so the sight of a naked Sheriff in his tub did not come as a surprise. He was lounging back in his large, wooden recipient that had been conveniently placed in the middle of the well litted room, so he would escape no one's view.

"Leave it to the Sheriff to be subtle", Guy thought. The image was a great insult to his position and rank and to some extent it angered him. But then again this was the Sheriff and Guy had learned to expect inappropriate, insulting behavior from him.

He advanced slowly from the dark door towards the middle of the room which in turn cased a sharp light on his rigid features. He stood immobile, with his arms folded expecting the punch line.

But not even his usual mask of indifference could protect him against the sight of his wife sitting behind the Sheriff's tub with a large, white towel in hand.

Any woman in her position would have had a nervous fit until now. Not his wife … She sat quietly, with a serene look in her eyes and her chin held high. The serfs around her were watching with increased attention as if waiting for her to snap.

There was no shiver now, Guy observed. She seemed perfectly calm, sitting with her arms peacefully folded in front of her, her brown gown offering her the simple look of modesty that seemed so unfitting for her. As far as anyone could see she seemed quite content in her present situation. As if it was nothing to be concerned about.

And yet, Guy knew her all too well for that. Her small hands were holding the towel so tightly the blood had run out of them. Her jaw line was closed tightly and her magnificent brown eyes were covered in a cold, icy light that she only reserved for the greatest kind of rage she was capable of.

This was a great insult. And she knew it full well. Her eyes made contact with his for a mere moment and then she quickly removed them, looking away in shame. She felt ashamed to be in such a position and she felt ashamed for him.

He could tell that and he could hardly blame her. His face became cold as he returned to look upon the Sheriff. He wanted to drag him out and snap his neck for this but he willed himself to remain still. He knew full well that the Sheriff was looking to be entertained by this spectacle he had instrumented and his distress was doing just that.

He could not afford to attack the Sheriff and he hated himself for this weakness.

"Well, Gisborne … The count will be here in a few hours. Are we ready?"

"Yes", was the only response received.

The Sheriff talking seemed to wake Guy from some dream. He felt as if he had been sitting in this room for days, looking at his wife when in fact it had only been a few seconds. All he wanted to do was take her out of the room.

"We should do everything to make the Italian feel welcome. Why do you think I'm taking my bath six months early …?", the Sheriff continued.

There was no response. What could Guy respond? That if the Sheriff had been just another man, he would have been dead the moment Guy had walked through the door?

"And I thought that since it was such an important event, I would invite your wife to join us. Don't you feel honored by my increased attention towards your wife, Gisborne?", the Sheriff asked pushing the line further then usual, just to see what kind of response he would illicit from his master-at-arms.

The only thing the Sheriff caused was Guy's expression turning to pure rage.

Guy was well acquainted with court ceremonies. The Gisborne's noble line and influence dated back to William the Conqueror, when Vasey's family was, most likely, selling fish on market day. It would have been an honor for his wife to be invited to the king's bathing ceremony, but as it was, Vasey was a mere appointed official and what he was doing was an attack on his wife's virtue and rank.

Guy's father would have killed the man who dared do such a thing to his wife on the spot. But that was back when the Gisbornes held a lot of power. As it was, Guy could not afford to do that. And yet, his father's teachings and dignity were weighing heavily on him at the moment.

"Is there anything else that you want, my lord?", Guy asked through his teeth.

"Not a thing", the Sheriff responded, raising abruptly from the tub and revealing himself in all his might.

This caused Guy to flinch out in disgust, and turn slightly.

But the Sheriff's focus was not on him. He turned his attentions towards his wife. She did not flinch. As a matter of fact her face did not express much of anything. Vasey was increasingly intrigued by this woman. Her taste in clothes had not improved since he had seen her last and with her hair braided tightly around her face, she resembled a nun in a most uncomfortable way. But, the Sheriff, guessed there was more to this woman. Her eyes convinced him of it. She was one shrewd leper.

"Dear, would you be so kind?", the Sheriff invited Josephine pointing to the towel and positioned himself with his back to her.

Josephine kept the towel opened wide and approached with soft steps. She pressed the towel against the flesh again and again, trying to contain her disgust.

This put an end to the last shred of patience Guy had retained. He approached quickly and grabbed the towel abruptly form his wife hands and threw it to one of the serfs that were standing speechless around the now empty tub. "If that will be all, my lord …", Guy adverted menacingly, towering over the small frame of the Sheriff, "we will leave". With that he extended his hand to Josephine and escorted her decidedly towards the door.

The Sheriff stood dumbstruck. Yet again Gisborne's wife had own without even trying. "One more thing, Gisborne …", Vasey stopped Guy and his wife in the door. "Go talk to your prisoner about what we discussed."

Guy did not turn. He simply nodded and opened the door almost pushing Josephine out.

Once in the hallway, Guy could finally breathe again. Long before he had become completely acquainted with the Sheriff's character, the first thing he noticed was that Vasey sucked the air right out of the room.

He walked quickly towards his wife's chamber, holding Josephine's hand tightly as if she was to escape from his grasp at any moment.

Josephine dared not say anything. Guy's frame was so rigid and he kept his eyes firmly in front of him, refusing to look at her that she felt it best to remain silent. She knew this would happen. She knew the Sheriff would go straight for blood.

She walked through the opened door to her chamber and towards the bed in the corner, half expecting him to leave without saying anything.

However he remained still, in the doorway. Even with her back to him, Josephine could feel his eyes fixated on her. She grabbed hold of the brush, intent on brushing her anger away. She sat down quietly and began taking the pins out of her hair and running her fingers through the newly released strands as she did this.

Guy sat in the doorway, holding the knob tightly and shifting his weight from one leg to the other awkwardly. He could not remember how long it had been since he had seen her do this. The image of her hands through the long, dark locks had been plastered into his brain ever since their wedding night and he suddenly found himself at a loss for words. After the image he had witnessed, this was like suddenly being lifted into heaven.

Still he could not remain silent. "My lady …", he said in a soft, almost whispered voice.

The sound of that deep, soothing tone that she had come to love so much made her flinch slightly. It had been so long since he had called her "his lady". She had almost forgotten how much she liked it.

"I apologize for that."

"There is no need to apologize. You were not at fault", she answered, placing her brush on the bed and turning slightly towards him.

He shook his head … "You must think me very weak for allowing this to happen". He had not intended to tell her that, but the words just came out. He did not want to hear the admision so he moved towards the hallway.

Her voice, her face turned completely towards him stopped Guy. "Doing the smart thing is often viewed as weak … but never by me."

He turned quickly, his face now lightened by a sudden sense of relief. How was it that she was able to do this? When he thought it less possible for anyone to understand him, she always managed to.

She looked so young now. With her hair down, dressed in those awful garments, she was still the most beautiful woman he had ever seen. He couldn't compare her to anyone else because there was no one that he could love better. "I'm sorry.", he said dropping his head and closing his eyes and it was perhaps the most honest apology he had ever given.

"You don't have to be. I know full well that humiliation was no directed at me. I was merely a tool".

She was right, of course. Guy knew that the Sheriff's intention was to hurt and humiliate him and it had worked.

"You don't need him, Guy", Josephine said forcing him to raise his head and look at her. "It is wise for the moment to be on his side but you do not need him. Use him as the convenient tool he ought to be. Otherwise he will destroy you when you least expect it".

She didn't know if she had gotten through to him, for he simply nodded and left the room. There was nothing to be said but she knew the Sheriff was not done.

-oOo-

Guy walked the hallway leading to the lower rooms. The events of the morning had left him in a state of confused bliss. The image of the Sheriff still angered him but what had happened after that, had given him some sense of comfort. Something he had not felt for quite some time.

He reached a narrow passage way and opened the last door. He entered the room and faced his prisoner with a grin. Leaning against the wall he asked in a satisfied voice: "So how are you finding your new accommodations?".

The question was of course rhetorical for the room consisted of only one bed and a fire place, but still, it felt good to ask.

"You cannot keep me here!", came the aggravated voice.

"Come, come … Marian", Gisborne replied. "It's either this or the gallows … I thought I already explained that."

"Am I suppose to be frightened by that? What do you want?", Marian asked coldly.

"It is merely common courtesy to check on one's guests …". Gisborne's grin widened.

Marian turned around. She could not bare to see that face anymore and to know that it belonged to the man that had imprisoned her. If she thought the house was bad, this was far worse.

After Gisborne had found out about her being the Night Watchman, Marian was sure that he was going to kill her. Now, after a week of uncertainty and imagining the worst, she rather wished he had.

"When can I see my father?".

"When I am completely satisfied with your behavior."

The answer caused Marian to turn and face him. "What has happened to you?", she asked. "I once thought there was even a shred of decency and kindness in you. Was I that mistaken?"

"Don't!", Guy advised lifting his finger and approaching her. "Don't talk as if you know anything about me. You never cared to find out. You merely wanted to use me. So do not complain now about having the tables switched on you."

Marian gave up. In the past, she had always been able to reach Gisborne but now it was useless. "At least tell me how he is.", she pleaded. Her father was an old man, after all. While she was young and strong and was able to stand this new way of life, similar treatment must have taken a great toil on him.

"Well, Marian,", Guy answered. "I can tell you this …He's not dead. Which is what he will be if you don't do what is required of you."

Marian's face dropped. She felt short of breath, like a dear caught in range of an experienced archer.

"But do cheer up, Marian", Guy said ironically lifting her chin up with his fingers, only to have her pull her face away. "You're going out today.", he announced. "You're going to buy yourself a dress. I want you to be presentable for when the count arrives. Remember? I told you about the count."

"You do not expect me to …", Marian replied frightened.

"I expect you to be charming and blind him", Guy interrupted her. "By any means necessary … I know you are able to. I have experienced it full well."

He turned towards the door, removing his coin bag. He turned around, holding just one, single piece. "The cheaper the better, I think. There are two men outside waiting to escort you. Do be quick.", he added. "And now", he said with a cruel, cold look, "fetch!". With that he threw the coin and left the room before it had hit the ground.

-oOo-

The Sheriff and Gisborne were standing on the stairs as the cart was approaching. Josephine sat by Guy's side, with her arms folded and stealing quick glances of Marian, who had been placed a few steps in front of the welcoming party, almost in the same way you would throw bait to a hungry wolf.

"The lady has bought herself a new dress.", Josephine thought. It was very revealing and cheap and most likely Marian had bought it at the request of her husband. Still, Josephine could not help observing her better. She realized that when she had seen Marian in the forest, she was not at her best. Looking at her now, as much as it hurt her to say it, she was not without charm. She had a pleasing face and her fully grown, round forms would be appealing to any man. And even if her dress was vulgar, is was far better then the old rag Josephine was wearing at the moment.

She had let her hair down in an attempt not to look completely like a scarecrow, but between her brown dress, the dark circles under her eyes due to a complete lack of sleep and her shivering grayish complexion, she was not sure she had succeeded.

The cart came to a halt in the middle of the yard, and three people finally made their way out. There was one rather young man and a married couple. The man had extended his hand and he and the woman were the first to walk towards Marian and the Sheriff.

"Welcome to Nottingham", Vasey said opening his arms. He proceeded to introduce the couple. Once he was done the woman approached Josephine slightly, dragging her husband and avoiding Marian at any cost. In her red dress, Marian was far too big a danger for the overly ornated, rather unattractive married woman. "I must say", the woman replied unceremoniously, in a thick accent, leaning towards Josephine. "I am rather shocked to see noble women without any kind of jewelry". She ended her insult by nodding towards Josephine's neck.

Josephine felt a sudden, sharp blow to her stomach but before she was able to attack, a tall figure approached her. He passed right by Marian and the couple he had arrived with and replied looking straight at her: "Ahh, but Sofia …", he said mentioning the woman's name, "what is the need for any jewelry when there is such beauty to marvel at?". With that he extended his hand and waited until Josephine had placed her own firmly on top, and then he bent slightly and kissed it.

His accent was also thick, Josephine thought, but somehow it sounded so much better.

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Merry Christmas one and all and plsssss get in the X-MAS mood and drop a review! 


	25. Chapter 24: Fresh eyes, old hearts

Hello again! and Happy New Year! Hope you had a great time over the holidays. Finally managed to finish chapter 24. I hope you like it!

Now, I must warn you there is a massive amount of testosterone going on in this chapter and if, at any time, you feel the need to scream at any of the male characters (who are being very, very naughty boys!), feel free to do so!

ps: DeanParker and Marian66 (I know you've changed your name but can't seem to remember it at the moment) - so sorry about your loss:)) I know what the season's finale must have done to you. I never liked the girl and, still, I had to say that was not a good day to die.

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Chapter 24 – Fresh eyes, old hearts 

Count Alessandro de Savoy II was, by all accounts, a young man. Not yet eight and twenty, he had not outgrown his boyish appearance. His slim frame coupled with his less then imposing height, a feature that most Italian men shared, took away from that dark strength that one finds so appealing in a man. Still, he possessed a kind of innate charm, courtesy of the same Italian heritage, that left most women unable to resist. His large blue eyes entertained the kind of depth one usually associates with intelligence and his straight nose gave him that Roman profile that was so well liked among the nobility. It could be argued that the count was quite handsome.

He had a way about him, this count. The way he eagerly moved his eyes from one place to the other, sparkling bright and blue every time he encountered something to interest him. He moved his mouth with soft, long movements inviting you to watch him. His hands, while arguably small for a man, moved with a grace and fluidity that only extensive study can achieve. His legs took on elegant, long movements while his perfect smile was bestowed on particular, deserving subjects. After all, he had lived a privileged life, so he was bound to show it.

He had decided to grow out a beard as to give him a much needed maturity, yet his beard had rebelled against him. In the end, all he could manage had been a more or less thick stubble, which he maintained even at the cost of his favorite mistress, who had asked him most insistently to get rid of it … In the end, the only thing he got rid of was the mistress. The Count was fickle …in mistresses and in everything else.

His clothes were kept simple, away from unnecessary ornaments that made most nobles resemble peacocks in a most uncomfortable manner. They were, however, made from the best silks. Nothing but the very best would ever do. And it wasn't only for him that he kept this rule. It applied to anyone in his close quittance, especially women, for the count liked women and liked nothing but the very best for them. De Savoy had always been known to be a very generous man for generosity to his women meant respect for him. He had learned as much from his father: "Son …", he had said, "keep your women looking pretty. They're the first thing people notice about you."

Which was what appalled him the most about this savage land called Nottinghamshire. Not the terribly old and ineffective roads filled with all sorts of bandits and beggars. Not the gloomy state of the weather or the complete lack of a somewhat decent inn on the entire road from Portsmouth to this God forsaken place. But this … the sight of a beautiful woman dressed in an old, faded gown not fit for the kitchen maid.

It was this mere fact that made him dislike Gisborne from the first. It was not only that this savage, unrefined log had managed to get a woman the likes of which he had not had in quite a while, but that he did not seem to possess even the slightest idea of how to value such a woman.

A woman such as Lady Gisborne ought to be kept in silks and lace, not brown, washing cloth. No wonder the sun did not shine here.

As he walked through the halls of Nottingham Castle, the Sheriff at his side chattering some nonsense, Savoy presented a polite smile pretending to listen but kept his eyes away to the left, upon that rather fascinating creature. It was not that this woman was the most beautiful woman he had ever seen. He had seen others even more beautiful. It was just that she was not blushing.

It was clear as day to Savoy that she had noticed full well that he was looking at her and just how he was doing it, yet she did not seem unsettled by it. Even more so, every now and then she would roll those remarkable brown eyes and look straight at him. The looks implied nothing improper and yet were given with such certainty and confidence that Savoy was surprised. He did not expect such behavior from a village lord's wife … They were usually considered quite simple-minded. There was more to this woman then that … There was a predatory glim in her eye that enticed him and ignited all of his sovereign instincts.

He briefly directed his gaze towards Gisborne … He was walking next to the Sheriff. Face straight and impenetrable, his icy eyes kept firmly forward. Such a cold fish this one! Not a look, not a touch had been given to his wife since he had met them.

How could the man keep his eyes off her? "He must be out of his mind!", Savoy thought. More attention was given by Gisborne to that girl dressed in the ridiculously vulgar dress then to the woman standing silently by his side. Attentions that had not gone unnoticed by Lady Gisborne, Savoy observed.

"She must be bored stiff.", he thought. Savoy seriously doubted Gisborne was capable of satisfying his wife, in any way. He doubted that crude, strait-laced countryman had any idea of what it took to please the woman next to him or that he even cared.

"Lady Marian was very interested in meeting you", Guy said all of a sudden, interrupting the Sheriff and directing the attention towards Marian, who had remind, strategically, a few steps behind trying very hard to be left out of the whole interaction. Guy, on the other hand, would have none of that.

He was becoming increasingly weary of Savoy's eyes roaming freely all over his wife's body. If the little boy thought that kind of behavior had gone unnoticed, he was mistaken.

Not only had he to keep quiet when that horse-faced woman insulted his wife. The insult had stung inside him like a hot needle through the heart. Who did that woman think she was? His wife, with no jewelry and that horrible garment on was more beautiful and more of a lady then that woman could ever be. And then there was that nagging feeling of shame that plagued him. It was his fault his wife had to present herself as she did. He had exposed her to ridicule, just as she had predicted … But now to have this little Italian look at his wife with such possession was more then he could take. The moment he kissed Josephine's hand, Guy disliked him. His lips lingered just a tad too long on the skin for his liking. His stomach quivered at the sight and it was quivering still.

Guy looked back at Marian menacingly, forcing her to take a few steps forward. She hated being the puppet of these people, but with her father in the dungeons, she hardly had a choice.

"Is that so?", Savoy asked in his politely flirtatious voice, putting the smallest of efforts into pretending that he was interested. After all, the comfort of the large, leathered oaf was no concern of his. It was more then obvious that the girl was shaking in her boots to get away from all of them and he was not about to impose himself on anyone, especially since there was a much more interesting prize to be gained.

"I must say that the presence of a count so far away from home, did strike my curiosity a little", Marian answered coolly.

The girl was brave. Savoy had to give her that. And just for making Gisborne shift angrily form one leg to the other, he liked her just a bit more.

"I hope to satisfy your curiosity more thoroughly in the future", he responded bowing slightly and then turning his back on her.

"Vasey …", he addressed the Sheriff who was all sweetness and butterflies in front of the high ranked friend of King John's, "there is a small matter of business I would like to get out of the way. Could I have a word with you and lord Gisborne in private?"

"Of course", the Sheriff replied trying to appear unphased by this although he feared he knew what it concerned. "If you'll fallow me …", he added pointing towards the outer corridor.

Savoy could not let this moment pass … He turned from the Sheriff and his extended hand and approached Josephine. "Lady Gisborne, I hope to have the pleasure of your company at dinner tonight?", he said bowing and taking her hand into his own before dropping his lips upon it once more.

"Of course you will!", the Sheriff said matter-of-factly, before Josephine had even the chance to respond. "Lady Gisborne will be here all through your stay".

Having been left no room to talk, Josephine simply refrained to a small smile and a slight bow of the head. She was quite eager to get it over with. Guy's icy look upon her was not feeling very comfortable.

"That is excellent news!", Savoy replied, still looking at Josephine and gave her one of his largest smiles.

As Savoy and the Sheriff were heading towards Vasey's quarters, Guy stopped for a moment and faced the guards: "Take Lady Marian back to her chamber. She was not much help today …", he instructed coldly, looking back at her.

Soon enough Josephine found herself alone in the hallway with the woman that had insulted her previously. She dismissed her and her husband quickly showing them to their chamber and excusing herself. She was in no mood to talk to that ugly, bitter witch.

-oOo-

"King John has entrusted me with a small request." Savoy did not waste too much time to get matters out in the open once he was in the Sheriff's chamber. He stared closely at the blue sky outside through the rather large number of bird cages and delivered his news with the confidence of a man who knew he could not be refused. "He wishes me to deliver Nottingham's monthly due when I arrive in London.".

It was a good thing Count de Savoy had his back turned on Vasey, because try as he might, the Sheriff could not hide his feelings. He did not have the monthly due and he knew it. He had managed to send a sum of money to London every month but he had always kept a considerable part of the money for himself. Vasey served no master, except himself, and that included Prince John. After all, what did he know? He was miles away from Nottingham … This month as it happened he had had need of money more then usual. It was a particular sticky situation since not complying to Savoy's request would send a bad message to court. Vasey's eyes started moving quickly from one side to the other in search of a plan. He knew he had to buy time, a lot of it and fast.

"… in order to spare the unnecessary expense of sending it, of course", Savoy added after a prolonged pause, turning and facing Vasey with a soft, yet obviously fake, smile.

"Of course", the Sheriff replied with mocked pleasure.

Guy sat a few steps behind, leaning against the wall and watching the scene unfold. He knew the Sheriff stole money from King John. He had known it for a long time now, but it was more then obvious that Vasey had been caught on the wrong foot and had no money to show for it.

"Of course … it will take some time to gather up the sum …", the Sheriff added in passing as he started tending to one of the cages.

"It is nearly the end of the month … shouldn't the due already be in storage?".

It became very clear to Vasey that Savoy was not going to play the fool. "Well ... by the time you will be ready to leave, the due will accompany you!", the Sheriff underlined cheerfully. "Now …I am sure you will find your stay enjoyable and will want to remain for some time to come … Lady Marian has assured me, she intends to keep you company all through out.". The Sheriff thought he might add a enticement that a man of Savoy's reputation would appreciate. "Isn't that so, Gisborne?".

"Indeed …", Guy responded ironically.

Savoy winked in displeasure. "Lady Marian is unmarried, is she not?"

The Sheriff smiled in mischief and responded in a conspirator voice: "Yes …yes, she is".

"Then for her to keep me company is out of the question!"

This seriously unbalanced both the Sheriff and Guy. After all the pains they had gone through to ensure Marian's full cooperation, it seemed that the count was not interested.

"I do not wish to take advantage in any way".

The Sheriff smiled openly … "Oh, there is no need …" but saw himself interrupted.

Savoy had no patience for this man. If the Sheriff was going to buy time, then he wanted to get something out of it as well. "Sir,", he began full of noble bravado, "I do not know how people behave in this part of the world but I can assure you it is unthinkable for me to destroy the reputation of a woman!". Of course, Savoy had destroyed more then a few reputations over the years but it wasn't Marian's reputation he was looking to tarnish … "For her well being and my state of mind I must request for someone else to accompany me through out my stay … Lady Gisborne, perhaps?", Savoy asked innocently pretending to be indifferent to the whole idea but keeping his eyes firmly set upon Gisborne.

Before the Sheriff could have the chance to respond with the most emphatic "Of course!" he was able to muster up, Guy flinched involuntary and took an aggressive step ahead. "That is out of the question!", he said staring the count down.

"Gisborne!", the Sheriff adverted … "Of course, Lady Gisborne would be more then happy to accompany you.". Vasey dismissed Guy immediately.

"My lord!", Gisborne continued focusing his attentions back to the Sheriff.

"Quiet!".

This silenced Guy momentarily but the fire was only just ignited in him, and refrained to walking back and forth like a lion in a cage.

"Very well, then.", Savoy said pleased to see Gisborne silenced and humiliated. "I will retire and leave you to your business.", he added moving towards the door. Just as he was heading out, he turned and delivered the punch line. "I was hoping Lady Gisborne might do me the honor of sitting next to me at dinner… Perhaps she could shed some light on your customs." Without expecting an answer Savoy exited leaving behind him havoc.

"This is good … very good", the Sheriff excitedly announced as soon as the door closed and started moving about the room. "I knew your wife would come in handy, Gisborne!", he said pointing to the black figure still hidden in the shadows of the room.

"My lord, ", Guy responded coolly, "I will not allow my wife to …".

"Enough, Gisborne! Enough! Your pretty wife will help us in this matter and that is final!"

"No!", Guy said almost in a infantile manner coming out of the shadows. "She is my wife, not some common harlot!"

"Then if she is not, she will not behave as one.", the Sheriff responded calmly, taking to tending one of his birds and giving the matter no more attention. "Calm yourself, Gisborne. She will show him some pretty hills and dales, smell a few flowers, smile charmingly and be done with it. All to keep him busy …". "She can manage such a simple task, can't she?".

"It is not her place to fulfill that task … _As my wife_, she deserves more respect then that!", Guy answered trying to control himself. It was at times like this when he realized just how little influence he held with the Sheriff. What good had serving the Sheriff achieved if he wasn't even able to defend his wife in a situation such as this?

The Sheriff turned abruptly and headed for Gisborne, keeping his movements slow and his voice at a minimum level … "_As my lieutenant_, Gisborne", the Sheriff began mirroring Guy's earlier words, "you sit at the right hand of the father. You will share in the fruits of our labor. You will be…". The Sheriff paused for a few moments, just long enough to lean in and put his hand on Guy's cheek with apparent fatherly affection, "a god amongst men … as long as I can trust you!" … Staring deeply into Gisborne's eyes, the Sheriff made sure to get the message fully across … "Go talk to your wife."

The Sheriff's hand upon his face felt cold and implacable to Guy, yet he found himself unable to resist. Despite his desire, he felt himself nod in agreement and for the first time since he had been married to Josephine, he truly knew he had betrayed her.

-oOo-

Josephine stood in the middle of her bed, contemplating the morning's events. She had to admit that she had been somewhat curious to meet this count. In her general experience (which was not small), counts were usually old, fat bores so she was not expecting very much out of this one.

It had to be said she was more then a little surprised. The count was not only young and rich but he was also very handsome. She had not expected to strike his fancy but she could not in all honesty say that she was sorry for it. After all, it gave her the opportunity to make her husband jealous and that was a lesson that Guy needed to learn desperately.

Other then that, she entertained no thoughts for this count. In the past, she might have viewed this as a great opportunity. In Josephine's mind, being the mistress of one of the most powerful men in the world was far more convenient then being the wife of a country lord … But just as it happened; she was in love with her husband. After all this time and after all that had passed between them, she loved him still.

And she felt she knew Count de Savoy all too well to be truly interested in him. He reminded her of herself in some ways. The cold way in which he surely must view the world, his interest in observing those around him, the predatory, selfish look …These were things she recognized about herself as well …Then again, he mostly reminded her of Guy.

They both had this way of talking to you, of looking straight into your eyes with shire fascination, without a shred of doubt, of moving their bodies that left women baffled. But there was one major exception … Josephine had the very clear suspicion that Savoy's actions were always carefully planned and analyzed before hand. The man did not gamble, if he was not sure he would win. He did everything he knew in order to achieve his propose. And while that made him a rather interesting creature to observe, it held no real appeal to Josephine.

Guy's actions, good or bad, were always governed by instinct. All the things that happened to make him appealing were things that he was not even aware of. He simply did them because he wanted to. That made him real in Josephine's eyes … which was why she loved him. His instinctual, almost primitive manner at times, made her quiver in expectation and want … and it also made her feel safe … but most of all, she felt alive around him and that was something she had been sorely lacking before meeting Guy, for cold machines such as Robert truly despise life.

A cold chill ran through her body, freezing her mind for a moment and she took the thick, warm shawl and wrapped around her even tighter. "The blasted cold!", she thought.

Suddenly there was a soft knock on the door and as soon as her voice called out: "Come in!", the figure entered the room decidedly … It was her husband.

Her face could not hide the contentment that she was feeling, seeing him here, in her room. The little trick with the count had worked after all, and sooner then she had thought …She did not expect apologizes or declarations. She knew him to be too proud for that but just that he had come here, to be with her was enough.

She quickly rose from the bed and came towards the center of the room, where he had remained still, bent on embracing him and not speaking for several hours to come.

It was about this time, though, that she realized how awkward he looked, how uncomfortable and weary. He did not speak. He simply shifted his position from one leg to the other, as he often did when he was angry, and could not even bare to look at her.

"What is the matter?", she asked coldly, taking a few steps backwards and dropping her already extended arms. Once more she felt she had to get ready to face disappointment.

He did not answer. He starred blindly into the wall and shook his head. He could not help but put part of the blame on her. If she had not been so beautiful, if she had been more regular and plain then surely the count would not have made such a request and he would not be shamed today. If she had not known how to move those eyes to such an effect, if she had braided her hair … "I have a request to make of you …", he finally said straightening his position and looking at her with cold, distant eyes.

Josephine recognized that look very well … She had only once seen it, in London, on that night, and she feared it's repercussions. What was it that he blamed her for now? She dropped her eyes and waited.

"I want you to keep Count de Savoy company while he is to stay in the castle."

This, she did not expect. Her large eyes jumped up and met his own, filled with confusion and anger. "Excuse me?"

"There is not need to act surprised. I am well aware that you are more then equipped to keep a man company", Guy said cruelly turning his back on her. The more he talked, the more it seemed he could harden his heart to her. Why should he be so foolish as to care about the well being of a woman when there were greater things to be gained? Leverage over the Sheriff, influence, money … If the Sheriff fell, he would as well and he had sacrificed too much to give up now.

"Do not mock me!", Josephine answered back in rage as she grabbed his arm and forced him to turn and face her, fresh tears creeping their way to the surface. "No!", she said looking into his eyes … "Absolutely not!".

"You are in no position to argue!", Guy responded pulling away from her grip. "You are living in my house! You will do as I say!"

"I am your wife!", she screamed in desperation. "Do I mean so very little to you that you will have me whored around as you would a common harlot?"

"Do not be so emotional, Josephine! It does not suit you. No one is asking you to do anything more then keep him company. Do not act like a whore if you are not one.", Guy said ironically, mirroring the same words that had cut him open minutes earlier.

Her mind started swirling. She could not make sense. Everything was so familiar … everything, so painful. A door, a man with large sweaty palms …and Guy sitting behind her pushing her through? Or was it Robert? She could not remember … Maybe it was Robert …and her screaming: "I'm not a whore, Robert!"

This silenced both of them. He was left limb and cold while she was finally brought back, realizing what she had said. Robert was there … always there, mocking her, making her see the truth … She could never mean more to any man then what Robert had made of her.

"What did you say?", Guy asked when he saw himself able to talk. The sound of that man's name inside her mouth would always leave him stunned. He approached her menacingly.

"It was he who sent you here, wasn't it?", she asked lifting her head boldly, her eyes scrutinizing him. She saw his confusion, his questioning her sanity … "The Sheriff …", she added only to see him drop his eyes and move away from her.

"Tell him", she said, "that I am not his whore to wiled about! You may be his puppet …"

"Enough!", Guy barked actually managing to make Josephine jump up with fear. "Enough of your spirited talk, woman! You will do as I say!".

This silenced her. He continued starring her down for several seconds, keeping his eyes upon her as implacable rocks. It was a good thing, Josephine thought, that she had brought her sawing basket with her. She was going to be in need of it.

She let him put distance between them, and only stopped him once he was half way out the door. "Are you not afraid?", she asked forcing him to stop. He did not turn but he found himself unable to move. He was afraid. He was very afraid.

"He likes me, Guy. He likes me a great deal.", she stated the obvious and started moving towards him bringing her words closer and closer to him until they hit the inevitable center and made him turn to face him. "I can make him like me even more … and while I am doing that, I might fall in love myself". Guy blinked involuntarily, betraying his feelings. "After all", Josephine said in a soft whisper, "he is a handsome and powerful man". By now, Guy had dropped his arms so Josephine put her hand decidedly over the door knob and leaned in such a way as for her breath to fall directly over Guy's neck … "Just remember, when this occurs you will have no one to blame but yourself.". With that she closed the door in his face and bolted it behind her, leaving Guy in the dark.

-oOo-

The dinner was going along fine. At least it appeared so. The Sheriff was gleefully speaking nonsense to anyone he could find and there were a great many since the whole of Nottingham's nobility had been called for the feast. The Italian woman's curiosity had been appeased … It appeared English ladies did wear jewelry, quite a great amount of it. Guy was sited next to Marian and seemed quite happy in his present condition and Josephine could not help but watch them with anger and pain.

He did not look at her but she took the opportunity to observe the two of them. She wondered if they had slept together … She could not tell. Marian did seem rather eager to please, smiling shyly and trying to meet Guy's gaze as often as she could. Josephine could not decide whether she wanted something out of him or if she was simply afraid. Anyway, it did not matter. For the result was the same. Marian was giving her husband more strength to give his wife up and for that, Josephine hated her.

"I must say you do have strange customs here", the count said leaning very close to her ear. "There is no music …".

"I am sure the Sheriff will be happy to provide you with music if you ask him, my lord.", Josephine replied politely, putting a piece of bread into her mouth and taking this opportunity to distance herself from the count's mouth.

Another sight of Guy sitting next to Marian, and Josephine turned her whole body towards the count grabbing her wine goblet and taking a quick sip. She smiled charmingly upon him and it was all it took for him to start talking all sorts of wonderful nonsense, the kind that made her mind forget, leaving room for enjoyment. There were a lot of things that could be said of this count, but he was fun!

"Where's your wife, Montfitchet?", the Sheriff asked mockingly for the whole table to hear.

Montfitchet had only gotten married a few months earlier and to a much younger lady of doubtful reputation… This after finding himself in a most uncomfortable situation with said lady. So there was much giggle to be had on his account. In all fairness, Montfitchet had been a target of the Sheriff's jokes for a long time, mostly having to do with him still carrying a torch for Lady Gisborne, ever since the Sheriff had denied him her hand, instead choosing Guy. This new unfortunate circumstance, Montfitchet found himself in, only added to the Sheriff's repertoire.

"She finds herself indisposed this evening, my lord.", Montfitchet responded in his usual placid voice. "Besides, she has made it a rule not to go out at night … from fear of the Sherwood Butcher."

A sound of stifling laughter could be heard all around the table, since it was common knowledge that Lady Montfitchet did go out at night … all nights and alone.

"Yes, yes ... Montfitchet,", the Sheriff replied seriously, "I'm sure the Sherwood Butcher has kept your wife awake on many occasions."

"Who is this Sherwood Butcher?", Savoy asked Josephine, confused. It was not so much curiosity that was making him ask. It mostly had to do with hearing that lovely, soft voice.

After taking yet another sip of wine, Josephine leaned in closer and spoke in a low, confiding voice, keeping her eyes playful. "The Sherwood Butcher is a common criminal, my lord, who murders women …noble women… then leaves them at the outskirts of the forest.". She stopped herself just long enough to check if anyone was listening and then she added in an intimate whisper: " …_naked_ …".

Savoy's eyes widened in disbelief, both of the information and of the way she had confessed it. "How scandalous!", he replied with a half smile.

"Are you afraid?", he asked her.

"No.", she replied smiling.

"Of course you are not. That Butcher could never be a match for you!", he said with admiration and received a seductive smile as response. "But rest assured,", he continued wicking at her, "you will be protected!". "We must give chase and catch this Sherwood Butcher!", he announced louder for everyone to hear. By the time dinner was assembled the rest of Savoy's party had arrived, and it now consisted of about 30 people, who were all sited at the table and gave out a loud cheer in favor of their patron.

"That will not be possible!", Guy cut short the enthusiastic enterprise. "This is a serious matter, meant to be handled by the law. It is not a sport!"

"Very well, then.", Savoy replied. "Do let us know when you catch this man, Lord Gisborne. And I think I speak for all of us when I say it rather be sooner then later".

The table gave another stifling giggle as Guy found himself silenced by the count. If he had had his way by now the count would be laying dead in the street, but as it was he remained quiet watching his wife laughing. He could no remember the last time he had made her laugh. He wondered if he had ever genuinely brought a smile to her face or had it all been pretence?

"I must say, I find it quite odd that your husband prefers the company of Lady Marian to yours…", Savoy said in a lower voice as both he and Josephine turned to look at the couple sited on the other side of the table.

"My husband and Lady Marian have been friends for a very long time …", she offered as explanation, grabbing the newly filled goblet.

"She is pretty, I will admit to that …but you, Lady Gisborne, are magnificent!".

This made Josephine turn her head towards him. She had no been called magnificent in quite a while and she had to admit that it felt good hearing it. She started smiling is mischief.

"Why do you smile?", Savoy asked her.

"I was just thinking that a woman is only magnificent before you marry her, after she becomes common place, my lord."

"Call me Alessandro. And you, my lady, could never be common place", Savoy professed and kissed her hand.

"Alessandro", Josephine repeated and offered him one of her most enchanting smiles.

* * *

Really curious to see what you are going to make of Count Savoy. He's a character I've created from scratch and very interested in seeing your opinions about him. Remember: reviews equal love 


	26. Chapter 25: Two hearts apart

All I can say about this chapter is that my characters are behaving as small children ... I usually like to think of them as smart people, but I guess love makes fools of us all.

Also the first part contains scenes of an adult nature (aka. S-E-X) so would have to rate the chapter as a **M**. Everyone be advised!

* * *

Chapter 25 – Two hearts apart

He walked through the dark corridor with careful steps …He kept his sword firmly in front of him as he advanced … Somewhere in the distance he could hear the soft, erotic moanes of a woman. What had began as a mere whisper of music, slowly turned louder and louder as he approached the patch of light coming from the singular window at the end of the long corridor that directed its ray straight onto the door behind which the soft gasps of pleasure could be heard.

It was no wonder that he could hear them from the other end of the passage way, he thought, for the door was unlocked and slightly parted. He paused in front of it not knowing exactly why but feeling quite certain that he would not like what he would find on the other side of the wooden door.

Finally his sword came in contact with the obstacle and pushed it open with a soft creak as it revealed what was hidden behind it.

Guy's eyes immediately shut tight in front of the sight before him. The bed lied large and still in front of him, disturbed only by the soft creaks and cracks the bodies upon it were producing …His wife stood naked astride another man who was holding her tightly in his arms. The bastard's mouth rested slowly over her breast and she moaned and arched her back like a bitch in heat. Her long hair touched the bed sheet as she tilted her head back and started moving her hips in small circles and biting hard on her lip to restrain a scream of pleasure.

Savoy's small wretched hands caressed her bare bottom and squeezed it tightly making her gasp and bring her arms around his neck, running her fingers through his hair. He whispered to her … words Guy could not understand, and she kept responding: "Yes! Yes! Yes! Please …". His mouth lingered on her skin, leaving a small trail of wetness as his tongue made its way to her collar bone and his hand squeezed her breast, making small circles around her nipple with his thumb. She squealed in pleasure with eyes half open.

"She's a whore!", Guy thought. How was it that he had forgotten this? She had bedded countless men, what was one more? His sword stood still in front of him. He would kill that bastard Savoy and this time he would keep his word and kill her as well …but not before flogging her …He wanted that white skin transformed into a mass of bloody bruises and most of all he wanted those shameless moans of pleasure turned into screams of pain and agony, before splitting her throat open.

He made an attempt to move and found he could not. It seemed as if his legs were suddenly made of lead. He tried again … no use. She must have sensed something because she opened her eyes and turned her head to gaze upon his darkened face.

He expected her to be startled and jump. He expected her to try and explain this unthinkable, unexplainable situation but she did not. She simply smiled wickedly as she moaned again and turned her head towards her lover, bending down and kissing his lips.

She did not seem beautiful to him now. Her skin, that had always seemed beautiful, smooth porcelain, was faded and sickly yellow now. Her beautiful brown eyes looked dark and covered by a purple, grayish hue. Her breasts were drooped and withered, all youthful, vital sap dried out …Her hair no longer made wondrous colors by the candle light …Her low, guttural moans he had come to like so much, seemed vulgar squeals now … She was a stranger to him … Just another vulgar, ugly slut.

She dropped her head back and whispered something in Savoy's ear, smiling in amusement. The man looked up and into Gisborne's face. His head tilted back and he gave out a strong, heavy laugh as she pulled him closer and started moving faster, apparently heated by Guy's presence in the room.

Again Guy wanted to move and end this travesty, but instead felt his grip on the sword weaken and heard it drop to the floor as his eyes were slowly filled with tears at the sight before him. Why was he crying? He hated himself for his weakness … She was mocking and betraying him and all he could do was watch and cry …he was a poor excuse for a man … "Whore!", he screamed at her. She did not even look at him. Just smiled and threw her head back as uncontrollable spasms overpowered her and she cried out again and again … Louder and louder … until her cry could be heard all through the castle.

Then he woke up. Cold sweat covered his body as he lifted himself off the pillow and back into reality. He could still hear her moans through the loud gasps for air he was producing. It had been a nightmare … all of it … but he could not shake that sound out of his head.

He threw the bed covers away and headed for the water pitcher. He drank the cooling liquid quickly and grabbed a cloth to dry his body of the viscous, cold wetness that covered his bare chest.

He had fallen asleep in his woolen breeches. He found that after five bottles of three year old wine, one is simply unable to undo his own drawers. "That's when a wife really comes in handy", he thought with a bitter smile.

A soft knock on the door brought him back from his reverie. He gazed out the window. It was still very early. Life outside the castle walls was just starting to awaken. He hoped it was her. He wanted to erase the image of her and Savoy in bed together and that of her laughing across the table from him last night. He had tried to remove it the night before by falling down on his bed in a drunken stupor but as it turned out, the memory was still there.

He would not be gentle today, he knew that full well. He wanted her quivering under him, heated and lustful …He wanted her to give out the same moans she had tormented him with in his sleep … He would reclaim her today. Every inch of her belonged to him and he would make sure she knew it.

"Come in!". he ordered in a sulky voice. He expected the soft, undulating form of his wife to appear … with her hair down, no doubt, and dressed as scantily as possible, which was one of the reasons why Marian slowly entering his room displeased him greatly.

"Sir Guy, may I speak to you?", she asked keeping her eyes lowered.

"She seems so submitted and bent on pleasing as of late", Guy observed with suspicion. "Marian", he addressed her in a weary voice, "when I removed the lock from your door and gave you permission to walk through the castle, I did not mean that you could enter my bedchamber."

-oOo-

Josephine had not slept very well that night. She had awakened very early in the morning and was now in front of the mirror. She had wanted to fix her hair and make herself presentable but she soon found she was in no mood to do so. She did not see the point … Her husband was obviously not interested no matter what she looked like. He had not touched her in weeks. It hurt to think that he did not as much as look at her anymore.

He had never kissed her since she came back, as if her kiss would somehow infect him …The thought brought about tears. She had heard that noble men sometimes refuse to kiss common whores when they possess them. She had only heard of it because she had been smart enough to become the mistress of the noble men she hunted, which was a slightly more comfortable and less humiliating role to play. She wondered if that was why he did not kiss her …because she was impure and it would soil him to do so …She sank lower into her chair as she tried to wipe her tears away.

The blood on her inner thigh had not yet dried and she kept starring as the nightshift was slowly covered in the red liquid. She had used the needle in excess that morning and she still did not feel any better.

As she looked in the mirror, a pale, weary face starred back and for the first time she did not care. She thought it pathetic that she did not. After all, she had always been a woman who prided herself on how she looked. And now to give up so easily because one man had slighted her, seemed so weak to her. "You should make yourself pretty for the count …", a voice whispered from deep down … the temptress … the woman that had driven so many men wild with lust … the woman she had given up on when she had fallen in love with Guy. Of course she was still there … but not the same. The killer instinct was gone and she did not want it back … She did not want to enchant the count. Better if he gave up on the notion of her all together. She already had too many things to worry about. The count was charming and rich and she did not need him confusing her.

"Bad night?", Walaa' asked as she approached her chair. She noticed the blood stain on her nightshift as soon as she touched her mistress's chair, but she knew better then to speak of it.

"Preceded by twenty-three bad years …", Josephine replied wearily.

It seemed her mistress was always weary and gloomy these days. She missed the old Josephine. The one that smiled and schemed. The one that seemed able to look into people's souls. Now she seemed blind even to the most obvious things … "Like the master.", Walaa' thought. She had seen how the master looked at her, how he took care of her from afar.

Every day he would ask Walaa' how she was, if she needed anything. He only had to see she was cold to have more wood brought …He did not do it openly, of course. He was a man, after all. Too proud for his own good …But her mistress should have seen all this. He had such a longing, soft look in his eyes every time he looked upon her that even she, that had been adverse to men for a very long time now, could not avoid it. To see someone care of her mistress as much as she did made Walaa' slowly like Guy …because no man before him had.

She began rubbing Josephine's temples. It always made her more likely to listen to advice. "I make you pretty and you go to him", she said slowly.

"No, Walaa'!", Josephine shook her head. "I'm not going to go to the count!"

Walaa' rolled her good eye in frustration. "No! No count … You go to master!", she said.

This made Josephine turn and look at her, mostly to see if she was serious. "The master", she said ironically, "doesn't want me. He wants Marian". It was more a whine and Walaa' knew very well that all her mistress needed was a good push.

"That is stupid thing to say", she said coming in front her and running her fingers through her hair with infinite patience. "She not you. He want you."

"No, he doesn't", Josephine replied and pushed Walaa''s hands away like a spoiled child.

"He love you", Walaa' continued grabbing Josephine's chin.

This made Josephine stand up and put distance between her and that notion. "No, he doesn't! He sent me to the count", she pointed out angry that Walaa' would suggest the one thing that she wanted more then anything.

"Ahhh …", the servant said dismissing the idea, "men say one thing, mean another. You know this …"

She did know that. Suddenly, her curiosity began to grow. "How do you know he loves me, anyway?", she asked folding her arms and pouting.

"Triumph!", Walaa' thought. "I know …", she said cryptically coming in front of Josephine. "I see things …You should try see things, too", she said half amused by the sudden glim in her mistress's eye.

"Now …", Walaa' continued heading for the clothing chest and pulling out a white dress, the only garment worth while in there. "You put on pretty dress and go see him!", she said holding it up. "Men like wives in bed, not talking to counts."

It was not long before Josephine was dressed and walking quickly towards Guy's chamber. It was so easy for her to hope for Guy, it seemed. Just a few minutes ago she was desolate and now, after just a few words from her servant, she was walking frantically through the passage way bent on making everything all right again. Her hair ran freely over her shoulders. She had not taken pains to braid it. After all, she remembered how much Guy loved her hair loose.

In her excitement, she did not knock … She simply entered the room breathing hard, her face filled with a hopeful expectation only to be immediately cast down into a bitter disappointment upon seeing her husband sited on his bed with Marian in front of him. There was nothing intimate about their position, but Josephine could not help observing that her husband was missing about half the normal amount of clothes he usually wore.

Guy stood up the moment she walked in. He could have explained everything then. He could have begged her pardon and be done with it. But he did not. He felt that it was only fitting for her to find him like this. After all, she had wronged him. He did not know what he was blaming her of, exactly. She had done nothing wrong. All had been a dream.

Perhaps he still had not forgiven her for what she had done in the past … for what she was, he observed. "Ah, wife!", he said ironically causing Marian surprise as she turned to find herself in front of a pair of very angry eyes. "Awake so early?", he asked. She was usually a very lazy cat, he remembered.

A lesser woman would have run away. "A smarter woman …", Josephine thought. Apparently, she was neither of the two this morning as she approached her husband. She did not look at Marian as she spoke: "Tell her to leave!", she ordered.

There was not pleading, no weakness. She demanded it and Guy could not stand for that. "It is not for you to tell me that!", he adverted looking coldly into her eyes.

Marian looked at both of them as they starred each other down. She wondered if all marriages were like this. "No!", she thought. She and Robin could never be like them. If she thought they could end up like this, she would give up on the notion of marriage all together. "Lady Gisborne …", she began slowly.

"Shut up!", Josephine ordered without even looking at her. "Tell her to leave!", she repeated razing her voice.

"Lady Gisborne, please!", Marian continued. She did not like the idea of being the object of dispute between these people. And even more to cause distress to a woman whom Robin had said was a kind soul. "I have come here to offer friendship…"

"Piss on your friendship!", Josephine responded looking at Marian for the first time during the conversation and shocking her with her choice of words.

The line caused Guy amusement. He had not thought to tell Marian that when she had offered him friendship earlier.

"Tell her to leave!", Josephine said for the third time.

Marian wanted to disappear. She tried to move towards the door but Gisborne's hand around her wrist stopped her from moving. "She stays!", he ordered. No woman, not even the one he loved, told Guy of Gisborne what to do.

Josephine felt as if she had been punched in the stomach. She suddenly found it hard to breath. If she had had a wedding ring, she would have thrown it in his face. "But, of course!", she thought. He had never given her the ring back. That should have been a clear indication of what he thought of her.

Having been left with no shred of dignity, Josephine simply turned around and walked towards the door, closing it behind her firmly. It was only once she was in the hallway that she started running … First just to put distance between her and him and then out of too much anger.

She threw the door open and left it like that, scaring Walaa' who did not expect to see her in this room ever again. She had been more then sure the master would not allow her out of his chamber, and his bed for that matter, for many hours to come.

"Bastard!", she screamed, picking up a random object and throwing it against the wall. "Damn him!". She should have left him long ago. He was not worth all the torment.

And then there was silence. She stood a few moments, breathing heavily, her eyes pressed into the floor below, searching for answers. "What to do?", she thought. "What to do?"

"Pack our things, Walaa' ", she said all of a sudden, in a slightly more controlled voice. "We will be leaving soon". "Perhaps not alone …", she added as she sited down in front of the table, lifting her legs and resting her arms on them.

Walaa' guessed her intentions as she raised from the bed …"You convince count to take us with him?".

Josephine lifted her eyes coldly to look upon her. "I don't know yet …", she said returning to her thoughts.

This was the mistress that schemed … but she did not smile. And one was not much good without the other.

She trailed her lips softly with one of her fingers as she stood silent on the chair, thinking. "Bring out you face dyes and then make that ale brew I used to drink.", she said. "I think I will pay the count a visit after all ...". She stood up from the chair and came to sit in front of her mirror. She had not used the dyes in quite a while, since Guy preferred his women looking fresh but she guessed Count de Savoy would appreciate the old Josephine.

It was almost an hour later that she found herself in front of the Count's chamber. For a woman that had just gotten her heart broken, she looked remarkably well. Of course, the face dyes had helped.

Being a special guest of the Sheriff, Savoy had received two rooms, one linked to the other. One was his personal chamber and the other the count could use as a place where he could greet his guests with no interruptions. She was caring a large trey filled with hot ale brew, fruit, marmalade and fresh bread.

Just as she got ready to knock on the door, it opened. It seemed that Guy's chamber was not the only to be crowded with women this morning … Lady Sofia exited. It was quite apparent that she had been crying. She jumped up nervously when she saw Josephine in front of the door. "Lady Gisborne …", she said. "What are you doing here?".

The question seemed to entertain more possession then was allowed for a mere inquiry, so Josephine had to conclude that the witch was jealous. Perhaps there was something between her and the count? She could see Savoy approaching the door slowly at first, and then quicker once he noticed her.

"I thought we might have breakfast together", she said. "But if you are busy …". Josephine made a move to leave, more then certain she would be stopped.

"Isabella!", the count said in a perfect, warm Italian accent, smiling charmingly. "I am not busy at all. Sofia was just leaving", he added in a slightly colder voice.

The woman once again seemed startled … "Yes …", she said and moved towards the corridor.

"Breakfast!", the count said. "What a splendid idea!". He invited her into his receiving area.

He made no attempt to invite her into his bedroom. Josephine was impressed. She looked around the room. She observed that the count had brought several items of furniture with him, which he had placed around the room. A rocking chair, a low table …they were made from the most exquisite red wood … they were charming and quite expensive, she thought.

She placed the trey on the low table and lowered herself onto the rug.

Savoy was fascinated by the ease with which she sat on the floor. That table was a favorite of his and he loved eating his meals on it, sited on the fur rug, in front of the fire place. This was a most promising beginning.

He sat on the other side of the table and smiled. "What is this?", he asked placing his nose over the stemming silver pot in the same manner a curious child would. "It's smells appealing."

This caused Josephine amusement as she raised the pot and started pouring the liquid into two separate cups … "It is a brew my chamber maid prepares. It's made from ale, herbs and fruit … It's nourishing and energizing", she said handing him a cup. "It's also tradition!", she continued smiling innocently. "Mine."

"Well … Isabella …any tradition of yours becomes a habit for me!", he announced seriously before drinking.

She smiled openly upon him. It was all so easy and enjoyable being with him. No words of anger and humiliation, no attacks, no looks of accusation …Just ease and freedom. The freedom of being allowed to be herself.

They spent the next two hours talking about silly things and enjoying each other's company. He told her of his country. He spoke of it with such love and detail that Josephine began to like it as well.

Italy must be a wonderful place, she thought. She had read about it a little and what she liked the most was the promise of warmth all year round. Surely, she would not be cold there. She began imagining herself there, walking through the sand and watching the waves, being warmed by the sun …And there was the greatest appeal of all …It would finally put enough distance between her and Robert … He would never find her once she left the country … His shadow always towered over her. She always feared that he would come for her again … And since she and Guy grew further and further apart, she feared his coming even more.

"You know what this reminds me of?", he asked bringing her back from her thoughts and schemes.

"What?", she asked with a warm smile.

"Of a picnic", he said enthusiastically. "We should have one today, if you like …The day is warm … Is there a meadow anywhere near here where we could organize it?"

Once he had thought of the idea, Savoy seemed more and more excited about it. And she could not disagree with it. It had been so long since she had been to a picnic and she used to like them so … "I think that is a wonderful idea, Alessandro", she said seeing as her pronouncing his name brought about a rather satisfied smile upon his face. "There is a beautiful clearing right on the edge of the forest, a few miles away from here. We could ride there …".

"Excellent!", he replied. "I could do with a ride!".

There so much care free life to be had with this man! She enjoyed it. She knew things are never as they appear, that the count had to be hiding a darker side then this, but for now she did not care to find out. She simply wanted to enjoy herself.

"And, now, Isabella", he said reaching out for her hand and holding it tightly into his own, "you must allow me to satisfy my curiosity …".

She raised a quizzical brow waiting for his request … "I know that I said there is no need for jewelry where you are concerned but I happen to have this box full of of the stuff and I'm dying to know what they would look around your neck!", he said winking …

She frowned slightly and smiled in mischief … "Alessandro … what is a man like you doing with a box full of women's jewelry?". There was irony in her question which he picked up on and tilted his head back to laugh.

"They are for Prince John's wife", he said razing from the table and walking into the next room to pick up the box in question … "What do you say?", he asked placing the box on the table …

"I don't know, Alessandro …", Josephine replied with pretended innocence. "The Princess's jewelry … I do not think it's fitting."

"Well, ", he said lowering his voice and calling her closer with his finger. "It's not her jewelry yet!"… "And there's this little sapphire necklace …", he said opening the box slightly towards him and picking up the item in question, "that I think might suit you very well." He smiled and pulled the item out for a mere second, before putting it quickly back and closing the box. "What do you think?", he asked, keeping his voice low as if they were committing something illicit.

She smiled at him and leaned back, her eyes half open, pretending to think about it. It wasn't so much the necklace that made her say yes; it mostly had to do with the way he had made his request. As if all of it was a game … "Oh, very well …", she agreed smiling and for the first time all day she did not feel the need to use her needle.

-oOo-

Guy was still in his chamber as noon was slowly approaching and he was becoming increasingly weary. What was he thinking doing that to his wife earlier? To slight her like that in front of Marian, of all people! The wine must have affected his brain more then he had thought. Her face as she left was pressing hard upon him.

He had told Marian to leave right after his wife had left and made sure that the guards escorted her back to her chamber, but it had taken him a few hours to realize just how wrong he had behaved.

He had to make it right with her as soon as possible. He had called William Shepard to him as he was the only man that he could ask this of …"Go tell Lady Gisborne I want her to have supper with me, here.", he said without even looking at the man. He hoped an impartial messenger might tame his wife's temper a little before having to face her. He had to apologize and that was a task he never enjoyed.

Shepard exited the room shaking his head and made his way towards Lady Gisborne's chamber. He did not understand why Gisborne would ask something like that of him. He was a soldier, one of the best … He was not some bloody Cupid! Just as he was approaching her door, he saw the lady coming from the other side of the corridor, apparently from the outer passage way. He stood still and in front of her door with an official face … "Lady Gisborne …", he said bending slightly. "Lord Gisborne had sent me to tell you he wishes you to have supper with him, in his room."

Josephine stood still, in front of the soldier and delivered her response in a cold, decided voice: "Tell Lord Gisborne I thank him for his kind request but I'm otherwise engaged.". With that she entered her room, leaving Shepard in the hallway, rolling his eyes.

Josephine had sent Walaa' to make sure her horse was prepared, and she was now looking frantically through the clothing chest trying to find Isabelle's riding garment. She had made some alterations to it … It was acceptable now. It would have to do. She finally pulled it out and spent several minutes next to the window, checking the material to see if it was torn or stained.

"What is this prior engagement?", Guy asked standing right behind her and placing his mouth next to her ear.

The little hairs on the back of her neck stood up as his warm breath fell over them. She flinched in surprise wondering how he had managed to sneak so close to her without her hearing him. "An adventure …", she replied cryptically, right after she was at last able to speak. "I'm obliged to go …I have given my word", she continued, hating herself for feeling she had to explain anything to him.

"May I remind you", he said placing his hand over her arm softly and turning her towards him, grabbing hold of her face to keep it in place, "that your duty is first and foremost to me?". He did not expect a response as he took a closer look at her. "What is that on your face?", he asked frowning in disgust.

"None of your business!", she said pushing his hand away and pulling herself out of his grip and towards the other side of the room. "I am doing my duty to you, my lord", she said over her shoulder. "I am obeying you in everything you have requested of me."

He could sense the accusation in her tone and started approaching her. "Josephine …".

"I'm going on a picnic", she said turning to face him. "With the count."

"Absolutely not!", he said grabbing hold of her to keep her in place. There was jealousy in his voice, but also concern. "It is dangerous … With the Butcher loose …".

"Oh, Guy", she responded mockingly, tilting her head dismissing his statement, "there's going to be plenty of us there. I doubt the Butcher could take all 30 of us at once!"

Again she tried to pull away, but he only griped her arm tighter … "Listen to me!", he said in a calmer voice, trying to control himself. "I want this to stop! All of it! I will talk to the Sheriff and take you back to Locksley this afternoon!", he proposed.

She turned her face towards him, angry, finally managing to tear herself away from him, and stepped towards the door, putting distance between their bodies … "Don't you dare!", she threatened. "It does not work like that, Guy! You don't get to start something and then end it as well!"

With that she left the room quickly, her riding suit in hand.

* * *

remember reviews equal love!!!!!!!!!!!!!! 


	27. Chapter 26: The exploration of HER

Hey! Chapter 26 ...

Ok, so before you read I just wanted to touch a certain topic, in light of one of my reviews (wonderful review) ... I know many people don't like Guy right now, but I would like you to keep in mind that the Guy in my story never killed Marian! He's the Guy from the end of season one (he's evolved since then but not in the same direction as the series) so if you have to be angry with, plssssssssss be angry for what he's doing in this story (and trust me you'll have a lot to be angry about) ... That being said, you should not consider anyone off limits ...This is a fanfic where anyone could die: Josephine, Guy, Marian, Robin ... Who knows, maybe by the end of it I'll decide upon a earthquake that kills them all ... you never know (a.k.a that was a joke!!!!!!!!).

Just wanted to drop that in ... Enjoy this chapter. I'm quite proud of it, especially the first three parts (there's a hidden, symbolic message behind it ...)

* * *

Chapter 26 – The exploration of HER

He watched her as she rode along side him. It was hard not to. The large black stallion coupled with her small frame made too interesting of a sight to pass up. She had never seemed small to him before now.

She was not a tall woman, which he found convenient. He never enjoyed excessive height in the other sex. It made them less graceful and he had never encountered a tall woman with a truly pleasing face. But still, her body was well built and it had all the shapes it needed in all the right places. Her wrists and ankles (from the small glimpses he had seen) were thin and long as they should be, but her arms were strong and her shoulders well rounded. Her hips were a healthy round shape, showing that she was in a perfect and fertile state and her legs were long.

There was nothing fragile about her, really. But sited upon that large, black animal she seemed small and in need of protection … and that, in it's self, was a very attractive notion.

She rode the animal well, he noticed. Her posture was straight and regal. She kept her eyes to the front. There was no forceful, strained look in her eye. She did not keep the reigns tight from fear of the animal slipping away. She was in control and he liked that.

Her head was not covered by any restraining veils most women usually wore. Her hair was not braided. Instead it dropped heavy and strong over her shoulders, only two pins keeping it away from her face. Curls were considered fashionable yet she had none. Her hair was as straight as it could be and it jumped up and down in sync with her horse. He remembered that he had once liked the wavy hair that women possessed, some having gone through great pains to achieve it yet now he knew her hair should never look different. It would be a crime to alter it in any way.

Her riding garment was faded and old. He did not like it on her but it brought about an image that he had not thought of in years. With her hair touched by the wind and her earthy colored, simple garment she resembled the midsummer fairies that his grandmother would tell him about as a boy … the kind that could only be found in the deepest part of the woods where only the brave would dare go. There, at midnight, the fairies would come out riding their horses bare breasted and wild, enchanting the men that fell into their grasp only to leave them come day light. As a boy he had promised himself he would trap one of those fairies and make her his forever …

And now, in the most distant, wild place he had ever encountered, he found one. Once he would have her, he would commission the greatest painter to immortalize her like that …bare breasted, with her hair flying, sited upon a black stallion … his Midsummer Fairy. She would be his crown jewel … She would adorn his wall and his life.

He envisioned her laying naked on his bed … covered by expensive silks and diamonds. He saw her riding on his side, on top one of his best white, Arab-breed chargers, on their way to court or around his summer estate …She would be dressed in the best garments his money could buy and covered in jewelry that he would take great pleasure in removing once they would be alone …

Never again would her frame seem small on a horse. His graceful, light-weight animals would compliment her elegance … After all, it would be a gift from him and his gifts were always perfect.

There was no doubt in his mind that the huge, black animal had been a gift from her husband. Only a primitive, unrefined peasant like Gisborne could think of giving his wife such a horse … after all the beast was exactly like him: large, brutal and lacking in grace.

It had come as a surprise how soon he had come to envision himself together with her, but there was no doubt in his mind that this woman would be his.

"What are you looking at?", she asked him with a smile, bringing him back from his reverie.

"I am looking at you, of course. You are a woman poets could write about for centuries!" … And he would make sure they did.

She tilted her head back and laughed. Then with just a wink of her eye, she speed up her horse, running towards the meadow that lay in front of them …

He urged his own steed to fallow, faster and faster … chasing down his Midsummer Fairy.

-oOo-

He waited away from the meadow, for them to appear. All the others had already assembled yet she and he were nowhere in sight. Just when he was about ready to go look for them she came into view … She was riding her horse fast, eyes ablaze, her hair flying behind her … He fallowed.

He had decided not to get in the way. He had done enough damage for one day and enough damage had been done to him … But he could not help but keep watch over her … protect her from the little boy Savoy, the Butcher and anyone else … Even if, as always, he did it from afar.

He had given her that horse as punishment but now, seeing her ride it, he knew no other animal would do for her. She was small of frame, it was true. Her light, delicate wrists and ankles seemed unable to control such a beast and yet he knew better. She had a strength in her that would crumble the strongest wall if it dared oppose her. There was something wild and unpredictable in her, despite her refined manners and collected actions, that could only be satisfied by the danger an equally stubborn and unpredictable animal such as Sultan could ignite.

Seeing her ride it set a shiver of deep lust through his entire body but also fear … Lust at possessing that body that was at once fragile and strong, warm and alive. Fear at the thought of her thrown from the saddle, stretched over the cold ground with her neck broken …He would offer to buy her a lighter, calmer horse but he knew she would refuse.

She looked at him for a mere moment before heading closer to the forest. She knew full well he did not want her so close to that place that held so many dangers and so she defied him …

He spent the next hour watching her. There were a lot of people in the meadow, all of Savoy's party and most of the nobles the Sheriff had invited. The women wore their best garments and all of their jewelry in an attempt to impress and yet … there was none like her.

They were playing a game called the "Blind man". They formed a circle with one person standing in the middle, blind folded, while the others around him tried to avoid getting caught. Once the blind man caught someone he had to guess who it was. If he guessed correctly, the person would have to grant him a wish.

He smiled for he remembered this game. He remembered cheating every time in order to catch Agnes of Vipont into his arms and kiss her … Oh! He received many kisses this way. He would have done the same now …for she was the only one who could grant him his wish … But he was not a man of games anymore.

It was Savoy that was the blind man now, and he could tell the bastard was in search of her. Yet he could not catch his prize. She smiled every time he approached and pulled away at the last minute, jumping with her hair bouncing up and down … It had fallen from her pins and in her excitement she gave it no more attention, simply tucking part of it behind her ear. It, now, fell in all its beauty over her shoulders, shinning and straight as he liked it. She had a huge, triumphant smile on her face every time she tempted him in with her voice and managed to escape.

The image of her like that, with her hair down and in her pale garment reminded him of the forest nymphs his mother used to tell him about …Every night they would come out, in the darkest part of the forest, and dance. They would enchant the men that happened to stubble across the sight, only to leave them alone and desolate come day break. He had promised himself, as a boy, that he would find a forest nymph and make her his forever …And now, he had their queen in his possession and he feared she would slip his grasp come morning.

She was really enjoying herself, he could tell. It was not pretence. She liked this game and she laughed as he had never seen her laugh before. She seemed a child to him now …a beautiful, lively child. He wondered how old she was. He had never thought to ask her that and now those horrible paint dyes were making her seem older …He tried to think back to the first few months of their marriage and remember her face then. She could not be older then nineteen and it surprised him for he had come to think of her as being much older.

And yet one of the most endearing images he had kept of her was watching her sleep. She slept with her mouth half open and her arms tightly wrapped around the pillow. He remembered removing a stray lock of hair from her face and watching her breathing peacefully with flushed, rosy cheeks …There was no pretence in that moment and there was something completely innocent about her that seemed to have escaped his grasp since then.

He imagined removing those ridiculous dyes from her face. She did not need coloring or jewelry to adorn her. She was perfect as she was … He envisioned her laying on his bed, at Locksley, nude and untainted laughing as she was now and reaching out for him. The sun would shine through the window and onto her hair and she would spread the smell of wild lilies through the entire room as she had done once. He imagined her laying on the summer grass, with her hair spread around her, humming to herself as she did when she thought no one was listening and him caressing her face with a strand of wheat.

But all of this seemed out of reach to him now looking at her while Savoy brought her hand up to kiss it. She was his wife and she was slipping further and further away from him. He felt a hard, dull pain in his chest as he called William Shepard closer to him: "I want you to fallow her, William. Everywhere she goes, without her knowing it. Tell me everything she does!". His face remained upon her. His forest nymph was laughing.

-oOo-

The shadows of the forest offered him protection. He had placed himself at the edge of it, out of view and watched over the meadow … looking at them running around, playing their stupid games, screaming … Desecrating the peace and quiet of his forest … his sanctuary ... his protection. They did not approach his realm, though … They would not dare. Once in it, they would be lost … Only he knew how to get around. And he did not dare approach them, either … Gisborne was there, on top of the hill … He feared this man. There was something about him, savage and powerful that demanded respect even from him …like a weaker wolf owes his leader …So he stayed there and watched …

He would often come here in the afternoons to watch the nobles … They liked this place. Sometimes he dared the light and came closer to see them … But his purpose was another. Women often came here alone … to watch the sun, to pick flowers. Feeling safe in the notion of how close this place was to the big castle …But it was not so. Not matter how close the castle was, nobody ever heard their screams when he grabbed hold of them.

There was a great number of them today, but still he waited …Some good might still come out of it. One of them could stray towards the forest … Women had a curious nature and he had come to take full advantage of it.

He had set his sights on a blond, pale one … She sat further from the group and wondered around in search of something … What, he did not know but he knew that sooner or later the promise of protection from the sun would bring her to the shadows of the trees and within reach. She was without a shawl and, no doubt, she would fear the sun scorching her … He knew it was dangerous to take her today. There were too many people and soldiers that could notice him before he had the chance to lose himself with her into the depths of the forest but he could not leave. The smell of imminent peril and the seduction of seeing his catch in sight worked on him like elixir making his heart beat faster and his palms sweaty … And that was when he saw her …

She got off her huge black horse with large, audacious movements, her hair flying in the wind, her eyes bright and alive …Proud and magnificent. Her smile opened a wound inside him. He was mesmerized. He felt a burning, aching nod in his stomach as he had not felt since before the first one. Seeing how the man around her was keeping her close to him, touching her hand made him moan in expectation … She had to be his.

He had not seen anyone like her before … So graceful and arrogant and yet so simple…like one of those creatures that his sister would tell him stories about … A forest witch that comes out at night, in the darkest part of the woods and dances around a fire calling men to her, only to leave them at dawn …He had sworn to himself he would find one of those witches and steal her away from her own.

It was why he had gone to live in the depths of the woods, to find the beautiful creatures that made fun of men like him and teach them better but he had not stumbled across them …until now. There she was …The Green Witch! And she was dancing in a circle just like his sister had said …True, it was not night but perhaps Mary had gotten confused when telling him the story for there was no doubt … She was the arrogant creature and she had called him to her.

He could almost smell her and he closed his eyes for a mere second to imagine her frightened and humiliated … and alone … She would do what she was told then. He imagined her spread over the leaves once he would be done with her, laying in all her untainted and cold beauty.

But not today. He wanted her but he could not have her. She was too far from him and there were too many people around her. The helplessness of wanting something as much as he did and not getting his way made his palms itch. He started breathing hard and moving from one side to the other looking at the Green Witch. She was tormenting him but soon enough he would make her pay for it. Until then, he needed something to make the aching stop … The blond, pale one would have to do.

-oOo-

She got off the horse in the yard of Nottingham Castle once the ride was over. She patted Sultan on the back and handed the reigns to the groom. She sat for a moment in admiration of her animal. He was beautiful and large. She had been afraid of him in the beginning, because of his stubborn streak and his temper but she had managed to calm him down and she enjoyed that he had a mind of his own.

Josephine had always been fond of animals. There was no pretence in them. When treated right, they gave you their unconditional love and service and she liked that.

Indeed, she and Sultan had come to enjoy each other's company very much and she could not think of another charger that could suit her better. He had been meant as a punishment but he had become a strong and dependable companion.

Still, she had to admit she was tired. Her arms and thighs were aching and she tried to shake it off as she walked towards the main gate. It had been three days since the picnic and Alessandro had insisted on a riding trip every morning since then. She was not used to riding this often.

Just as she was ready to enter the main passage way of the castle, she saw her husband approaching from the opposite direction in a most intriguing position.

Guy cursed himself the minute he laid eyes on her. He had not seen her in three days. She had managed to avoid him at every turn, despite his efforts to cross her path … and now to have to run into her like this…

He was holding three gowns in his arms, as if he was cradling them. It was how they had been handed to him and he had not shifted his position trying to reach his destination as quickly as possible. The Sheriff had sent him in the morning to pick up garments for Marian …"Gisborne", he had said, "I want her well dressed. I can't have the nobles saying that I don't treat my guests well". That was part of it, Guy was sure, but the thought of his humiliation at having to carry the blasted things all the way to Marian's cell had also played a great part in it. Of this, Guy had no doubt.

Marian could no longer be trusted to leave the castle, even with an escort, since she had tried to escape but two days before so the task was entrusted to him …He imagined how he must have looked … like a fool. Not to mention raising suspicion in his wife … suspicion he no longer cared to entertain. She looked at him with quizzical eyes and an eyebrow arched in irony. "Hello", he said stopping in front of her.

"Those aren't for you, are they?", she mocked him pointing to the garments. She rather hoped he would say they were for her.

"No.", he responded seriously. He did not enjoy being mocked. "They're for Marian."

That touched a nerve inside and she stepped further away from him just as he approached her. "Ahhhh …", she said razing her eyebrows and looking coldly at him. Her hand reached and flipped through the material with a pretended examining look … "Well, your tastes have improved since the last time you bought her a dress, my lord."

"Josephine …", he said lowering his voice. He could tell she was angry and it amused him somewhat. He thought better then to ask her if she was jealous, mainly because he had done everything in his power to make her so and instead choose a different approach …"I have something for you", he said with a shy smile that was so rare for him and lowered his hand to the hem of his leather garment.

"Something for me?", she said with mocked excitement. "Whatever could it be?"

He took out a bag full of gold coins and grabbed her arm suddenly placing it in her hand. He looked quite pleased with himself. She was, after all, a woman who enjoyed money and he had a great amount of it. It had been utter nonsense on his part to refuse her that.

She looked first at the bag and then up at him with angry eyes. This simple gesture hurt her more then everything he had done since they came to Nottingham. "You're giving me money?", she asked him enraged looking into his surprised face. He had gone out of his way to go and buy Marian gifts and all he had for her was money?

"Yes", he fumbled not understanding why she was upset. "The Sheriff is opening his gambling chamber tonight and I thought you'd like to buy yourself something", he continued feeling increasingly stupid. "I know you would have liked to have it made but it is my understanding that seamstress keep gowns already made in shop …".

He saw his response only made her angrier. He did not understand. He thought this was what she wanted but now she looked wretched …

"I don't want your money!", she shouted pushing the bag back into his hand and feeling terribly close to crying. No matter how many masks she put across her face to shield herself from him, he still managed to crumble them down.

"I'm sorry", he said lowering his face. The way she was looking into his eyes saddened him. There was too much pain there. "I thought it was what you wanted …What do you want?", he finally asked looking up at her. His eyes were pleading. He would give her anything she wanted. All she had to do was ask.

"I don't know …", she said laughing nervously, angry that he did not know what it was she needed from him. "A little bit of kindness, perhaps …", she responded.

This left him dumbfounded. He was about ready to throw away those ridiculous rags that gave her such torment and hold her in his arms, even if he knew she would most likely push him away.

"But it's of no consequence now", she continued after a few moments, looking away from him. Coldness and control back in her voice. "Everyone seems to find me enchanting. It one of the benefits of being in the company of a powerful count."

Guy was about to curse out the name of the bastard and ask her to exclude him from their conversation when he saw the count approach.

"Isabella!", Savoy said coming next to her. He was flushed and his breathing was roughed. The riding trip had taken a toil on him as well, especially since he had taken to racing on their way back with a few of his friends. "Lord Gisborne …", he added quickly, giving the man but a glimpse before returning his admiring gaze upon the peasant's wife. "Am I interrupting?"

"Not at all. My husband has important business to attend to", she said pointing back to Guy who was torn between deciding whether to break the boy's neck here or wait until night settled. He knew he couldn't do either but still it was good to think about it.

"He was getting ready to leave me …", she continued and Guy could understand the hidden message very well. She was mistaken. He would never leave her and would never allow her to leave either but some part of him felt it was better to let her have her way. Perhaps he needed the lesson of seeing her walk away with Savoy at her side after hurting her as he had done or perhaps he was just too proud to stop her. He did not know but he watched her go nonetheless.

In the distance he heard Savoy ask: "Does your husband ever smile, Isabella?". He was laughing. Guy half expected her to laugh back but as she responded there was a sharp, reprimanding tone to her voice that silenced Savoy's mockery: "Yes. When he has reason to, I have seen him laugh".

-oOo-

Savoy walked next to Josephine through the hallways. He had gone silent all of a sudden and she could tell something was bothering him for he kept a serious, frowned face that was very unlike him. She did not ask the reason for his silence. She felt it was best not to push him, instead choosing not to speak herself.

Suddenly Savoy lifted his head and looked at her as if he had been brought back from some distant dream. "I'm sorry, Isabella,", he said, "I've become a most unpleasant company! You must be bored of me …", he added smiling and taking her hand into his own.

"Not at all", she responded stopping close to her own chamber. "I have wondered what might be the matter …".

"It is Vasey", he answered simply. "He has promised me something that he has yet to deliver …But it is not the delay that has vexed me so much. It's being taken for a fool."

Josephine gave a weak smile and raised her brow. The Sheriff had a way of taking most people for fools. It would be his own undoing … "I do not know much of these things", she responded shyly, "but I imagine that to be very vexing …", she responded. It was not smart to speak against the Sheriff nor to show much interest.

Savoy looked at her with an all knowing smile … "Oh, Lady Gisborne, I think you know more of these things then you let on. I am sure that if I were to tell you that the Sheriff has failed to deliver Prince John's due, you could understand the implications that might have on Vasey", he said before kissing her hand … "and your husband …", he added after a pause.

Josephine understood the implications full well. This had been the reason for Guy's request to keep the count company …and Savoy had finally named his price. He had done it in the most civilized manner she had experienced but still …She had known that his attentions and compliments came at a price so it came as no surprise.

He wanted her but she would have to make it as hard for him to have her as she could … Because he was fickle and he could get bored before taking her away from here and because giving in to this man would mean that Guy would truly be left in the past. He would never take her back after that.

She was determined to leave with Savoy and yet she felt she had to postpone that moment as much as she could.

"I have left something for you, in your chamber. I hope you wear it tonight.", he added stepping away from her with the same beautiful, kind smile on his face and the same impeccable manners. As if nothing had changed.

But Josephine knew it had. She entered the room and closed it tightly behind her, placing the only barrier she had between her and that man. She and he had started a dangerous dance and the masks had come off. He had not only entered her chamber without permission but had given her a present.

Presents like these always came with expectations … Tonight it would have to be a dance, tomorrow who knows. She sighed as she approached the mirror in front of which a box had been placed … She remembered she had once liked this game. The closest thing a woman could ever get to combat. It was a battle of wills and brains that she had managed to win most of the time …But now … Now there was much more at stake then she would have ever thought …And she did not like this game anymore.

She sat in front of the mirror, looking at the box but did not touch it. She knew what was hidden inside. An expensive jewel, no doubt. The kind he had asked her to try on in his chamber three days before … Only this time he had not asked. He requested it.

"Walaa'", she called out and was surprised to hear her own voice. It sounded hesitant and broken.

The woman had been standing near the window sawing and she approached when she heard her name.

"I want you to go talk to Archie", Josephine said absently, "and tell him to keep an eye on the Sheriff's correspondence". If Vasey was keeping money from Prince John she wanted to know where it was going and why. She took out a bag of gold from the left-side drawer and handed it to her servant. "Give this to him."

"Is last one we have", Walaa' said without moving. She did not understand why she was giving her own money when she could take it from her husband. He had given her a key …Three bags of gold were all she had been able to hide on the trip from London and she had given it all away to Archie in exchange for information.

"Never you mind", Josephine answered, paying the increasingly sulky Walaa' no attention.

"I thought we leave this place", the servant said. What was the need to waste perfectly good money when they were going to leave anyway?

"Just go!" Josephine answered in a harsh, low voice. She had no strength to argue with Walaa'. She did not know why she did what she did and had no answers to give …She was relieved when she heard the door close behind the woman. She sighed again and finally opened the box.

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hope you enjoyed it and plsssssss remember: reviews equal love! 


	28. Chapter 27: White towers, blue minarets

ok, so this is a very long chapter but I hope you like it. I would have split it in two chapters but I promised some people the end of the love triangle. So here it is! Oh ... and Guy does something really weird towards the end of the chapter ... I was amazed too but he insisted:D

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Chapter 27 – An ivory tower, blue minarets and the sea 

It had been a month now and Savoy had not left Nottingham. Guy was living in hell. His mind, his energy … his life was concentrated on one single thing: get Savoy on his way to London. That had become his chief purpose.

The moment that had really sparked the beginning of his torment had been on the night of the Sheriff's gambling feast. It had been a grand affair and Vasey had summoned entertainers from all around Nottinghamshire: jesters and acrobats … but above all music players. Savoy had insisted upon it. Apparently the count had a fondness for music and desired to entertain his guests with his musical talents.

The news was received with a sniff and grin of disdain from Gisborne: "Oh …he sings!", he had said when the Sheriff informed him. "Why doesn't that surprise me?".

But sitting through an hour of Savoy's undulating, little voice singing Italian nonsense had not even come close to the sight that managed to tear him open …The sight of his wife coming down the stairs of the large chamber, dressed in the green dress he had given her what seemed to be a hundred years ago. He had forgotten about that. It was the only thing he had allowed her to keep …Everything else he had taken away: her necklace, her wedding ring, the privilege of being his wife, as he had thought about it … Only the green dress remained. He had not been able to take that away. She was too beautiful in it for him to deny himself the pleasure of seeing her dressed as she was now.

She was breath taking and everyone took note of it but it was the absence that hurt Guy the most …The absence of her necklace, the same one she had cried over when he had removed it …The absence of her wedding ring …it was as if she was free now, as if she did not belong to anyone … He realized then that it was he who had lost the privilege of being her husband.

Instead of the simple, golden necklace he had given her when he had first loved her, she had a stunning emerald pendant surrounded by small, white shinning diamonds around her neck …He knew it had been a gift from Savoy and that hurt him... To know that the absence he had caused had left way for other men to fill it. He wondered that night what other absences Savoy might be filling in his wife.

He could not help but ask himself which necklace she might have chosen had she had the chance. Would she have removed his simple one in exchange of the much more expensive emerald Savoy had given her? She had said she loved that necklace but it was nothing compared to this one. It had to have cost Savoy a fortune.

Savoy danced with his wife that night as he looked on from the corner of the room. As he looked around he could see the people around him giving him looks of pity and disapproval …Even Montfitchet looked at him with mocked kindness …That killed Guy. To have this man, the laughing stock of Nottingham, look at him like that … the same man he had mocked and despised for so long … It was too much to bare. Once the dance was over he grabbed hold of his wife and escorted her to the table, form which he did not allow her to leave until the entire affair was over. He knew he had managed to humiliate her, treating her as if she was a child in need of punishment but it could not be helped.

In the days that fallowed the feast, he had tried to keep her as close to him as possible. He had practically forced her to have supper with him every day, even if she made it perfectly clear she had no interest in being in the same room with him. Still, he repeated the same ritual every single day trying to bring her back to him. He talked to her about things, all sorts of things he could think about and yet she said nothing … She did not look at him, neither did she give any indication that she was listening. She simply ate her meal as quickly as possible and left once she was done without saying a word.

He knew this attitude of hers. He had seen it in Locksley and he understood that reaching her at this point was impossible. Still there were a few times he had been seconds away from throwing her over his shoulder and dragging her back to Locksley. But he did not. He knew he could not remain there to teach her the benefits of giving in to her lord and master and he feared she might escape.

So he concentrated all his energy into gathering Prince John's due for Savoy to take with him to London. The Sheriff was, as always, dragging his feet as he did when he needed to give money away so Guy took it upon himself to do his duty to the King. He roamed the villages like a maniac razing the money, scaring the nobles half-senseless but the sum was within his reach in a very short while.

Just when he thought he had gotten rid of the little boy, the same had announced that since it was already the next month he would stay a short while longer, enough time for the Sheriff to gather the amount of the next due that had to be delivered …As to avoid the expense of sending it.

Guy had almost jumped over the table and chocked the bastard to death but he did not. He didn't do many things he was supposed to …He never was what he should have been during those days.

So once again Guy took to his village visits, always being received by the same excuse: "There is no more to give …". That might have been true, and despite his excesses, Guy had usually been a reasonable man. He knew he had bleed them dry trying to gather the first due so there was no wonder everything was gone. But this was not a time for reason …so the peasants and lords alike had to achieve the impossible. The fear of Gisborne surpassed their need for comfort and almost two weeks later Guy had his money.

This however had left him no time to keep guard over his wife. And then there was the pressing matter of the Sherwood Butcher. The mad man had struck again and this time it had been against Lord Malvoisin's wife. She had gone missing the day of the picnic and one of Guy's soldiers had stumbled across her limb body at the outskirts of the forest, a few days later …The sight of the virtuous woman gave even the cruelly trained heart of Gisborne a shiver. Eleanor of Malvoisin had spent most of her life praying in churches and monasteries … To have her body desecrated as such, violated and left naked for common soldiers to see was, perhaps, one of the most disturbing images he had seen. He was usually a man that took comfort in knowing that most people deserve bad things but the reserved, reverent Eleanor of Malvoisin did not deserve that. He was glad she was dead, for living with the shame of it would have been a greater torment for a woman like her.

Not being able to keep watch over his wife at all hours of the day left Guy in a state of agitated rage. He had relieved Shepard of all his other duties and now the only thing the man did was fallow Lady Gisborne around, listening through doors, looking through peepholes and paying servants to tell him what was going on behind the same limits he was not allowed to cross.

Every day he would report back to Gisborne, telling him that nothing illicit was going on between his wife and the count. All the two of them did was talk and laugh … the occasional hand kiss but nothing more. Yet, that did not seem to satisfy Gisborne. Shepard was sent to keep guard over his wife even during the night without anyone knowing …And he would ask him the strangest things. "What do they talk about?", he would ask. "Does she laugh?". Guy needed to know … every single detail tormented him but still he felt an acute desire to be a part of his wife's life, even in his physical absence.

What had truly left the usually collected Shepard speechless was when Guy had asked him: "Is he kind to her?".

The man looked at him as if he had lost his mind: "My lord, I don't understand …"

"Go on man!", Guy said razing from his chair and taking to walking about the room … "It's a simple question. Is he kind to her?" …"Does he compliment her? Speak kindly to her? Ask her opinion …". Guy did not know what other examples of kindness to give. He was the last man who should talk on that account.

"Yes, sir …", the man answered. If that was how Gisborne described kindness, then yes, Savoy was kind to the lady …

The answer did not ease Guy's mind in any way.

-oOo-

The Sheriff had summoned Gisborne to his chamber this morning … Earlier the same day he had received a visit from Count de Savoy that had left him astonished. The Count had been informed that the due had been gathered and there was no doubt the man was going to leave soon.

Vasey hated to think that he had to let Savoy walk out with so much money but he had tried to get used to the idea. What the count had offered that morning had been an alternative. A most advantageous alternative …for more then one reason.

He was tending to one of his birds which was something he usually did when he needed to think as Gisborne stood behind him with his arms folded. His master-at-arms was increasingly sulky these days and he was not at all fond of Savoy. So Vasey knew he had to choose his words well. Still he knew Gisborne's lust for power and money and had no doubt that the proposition he would put front would meet with a favorable response.

"Count de Savoy will be leaving us today.", the Sheriff finally announced after a prolonged silence.

In that moment, Guy wondered how loud his relief had been and if the Sheriff was able to hear it when he exhaled. At last, he was going to be rid of that man.

"He's going to leave with all of our money, Gisborne!", the Sheriff mentioned turning around to face his right hand man. The sound of disappointment was evident. "There are hard times ahead."

Guy stopped himself from his momentary reverie of having his wife in his arms and thought about what the Sheriff was saying. He was right, of course. The money he had given to Savoy had left peasants and nobles alike in need. The mines would suffer the lack of funds and all of the Sheriff's planes, and his own, would have to be rearranged. He wondered what Vasey wanted to do about it. They could rob Savoy just as he was leaving Sherwood and blame it on Robin Hood …That had worked in the past … And perhaps Guy's dagger might slip in the process and cut open that boy's neck …Guy gave out a satisfied smirk as the plan began to grow on him.

"Unless …", the Sheriff continued after a few moments.

"Unless what?", Guy replied with the same predatory smirk, getting closer.

The Sheriff stopped to look into Gisborne's blue, inquisitive gaze long enough to think of how good it was going to be to have him all to himself again. "Just like old times", he thought. Just the two of them. "Gisborne", the Sheriff said, "Savoy has made me a proposition …".

Guy did not expect this and he raised his eyebrows letting the Sheriff continue. "He will put up the due himself and give us twice as much as that …Also", the Sheriff carried on leaving the best for last, "he has promised to speak to Prince John on you behalf and get back Gisborne for you … all of your father's land."

Guy's heart leaped at the mention of his father and at the dim vision of repossessing what he had once held so dear. His land, his home …his father's legacy …his mother's garden … the grave sight of his own … all of it back in his hands had once been Guy's most treasured and never spoken dream …Perhaps, it still was. But his weary, tested mind knew there was more to it. There is always a catch. "In exchange for what?", he asked as suspicion began blooming in his chest.

Vasey turned his back on Guy in aggravation … Angry that he had not been able to retain Gisborne's hopes for more then a mere second. "Gisborne, think! All of your father's land, back in the Gisborne name … What's it called now? Hmmm?", the Sheriff challenged.

"Copmanhurst …", Guy said quickly flinching in disgust and then continued stressing his question: "In exchange for what?"

"Your wife.", the Sheriff finally said turning towards Guy. The man in front of him had froze. He did not move nor speak. It was hard to tell if he was breathing at this point. Only his eyes were filled with a cold, blue rage that shook the Sheriff to his core. "She is just a woman, Gisborne. Think of everything you will gain in exchange for her …"

"No.", was the only answer given.

"You are willing to sacrifice your father's legacy for a woman?", Vasey baited him trying to prove to him the ludicrous of his decision.

"My father would turn over in his grave to know that I have sold my wife as if she were cattle", Guy responded trying to control himself and not break Vasey's neck. The Sheriff was a venal creature, he knew that well enough. He could not understand that there were things in life above money, such as honor. He would not have agreed to this even if his wife had meant nothing to him.

What kind of man would he have been if he had been willing to do such a thing? How could he have been able to show his face into the world? He truly would have been a man without anything sacred.

"Gisborne, don't be a fool! Think of how much this will benefit our plans.", Vasey continued. "I know the man's proposition may come as a surprise but still …Think! I'm sure he will give you more money if you ask for it … Her weight in gold, perhaps? Hmmm?"

"That's too little …", Guy answered.

"Twice her weight in gold then", the Sheriff acceded but Gisborne seemed unmoved. "Three time then!" … Still the same response. "Four times …for God's sake, Gisborne! She can't possibly be worth more then four times her weight in gold no matter how well she moves those hips!", the Sheriff bellowed out.

"Say that again", Guy responded in a dangerous hiss, reaching for his sword, "and I'll forget who you are.". This silenced Vasey and Guy took a deep breath to try and calm himself. "My wife is not for sale!", he continued. "She never was and never will be. If I agreed to this game was so we might have enough time to gather the money. I married her in front of God and no amount of gold will make me forget that. She is priceless to me…".

"How poetic, Gisborne!", the Sheriff replied mocking him.

"My lord, I have been loyal to you for more then ten years now, have I not?". Guy waited until he saw the Sheriff nod. "I did so under the impression that my alliance with you might benefit me and my own …that it offered security for my family.", he added.

"Yes, yes, Gisborne …", the Sheriff nodded, shaking his hand in annoyance. It seemed he would have to give Savoy the money. Taking the woman away from Gisborne at this point might make him stand up and use his brain for a change. Vasey knew that the soldiers were loyal first and foremost to Guy, and not to him … and he also knew that if pushed far enough Gisborne would kill him first and think of the implications later.

"Savoy will leave today with the due and we'll have no more of this talk. It's not worth getting so worked up over, Gisborne. You could have just said no.". The Sheriff put pain to it.

Gisborne nodded and left the room with hurried, long strides. He had somewhere he had to be.

The Sheriff watched him go with a dangerous, all knowing look in his eye. "Yes, go to her …", he thought. He would soon make his master at arms regret his decision and prove to him once and for all that all women were lepers.

-oOo-

Savoy had returned to bed after speaking with the Sheriff . He disliked getting up in the morning but he wanted to catch Vasey unprepared. He was certain Gisborne would accept his offer. It had been most generous of him and he was more then willing to talk to Prince John to get the peasant his lands back … It was more then he had ever paid for anything, but Gisborne's wife was worth it.

He had not touched her, obeying her games because he knew she would be his when it counted. He wanted her to be the one to come to him. She would find all of her escapes cut off. Her own husband would turn his back on her. She would have no choice but to give herself to him completely. He could not help but smile in expectation of her body beneath him, sweating and passionate as only he could make it be. He knew she wanted him just as much. How could it be otherwise? With the husband she had, she surly must be in want of being pleasured.

When he heard the knock on the door he knew it was her. He jumped out of his bed and simply put a robe on over his breeches and naked chest, not taking the trouble of tying it. He did not see the point of propriety towards her anymore, now that she was his. And it was better for her to take a good look at the body of the one who was going to be her keeper from now on.

The first thing he saw when he opened the door was Guy's fist coming straight at him. It hit it's mark right between the eyes. There was a sharp crack that signaled the breaking of the count's nose, but Savoy had no time to dwell on it as Guy's right hand grabbed hold of his neck and pushed him towards the wall, crushing him against it.

"Listen to me, boy …", Guy said lowering his mouth next to Savoy's bleeding face, "if you think you can come to a man's country and steal his wife, you do not know Normans well". He squeezed Savoy's neck harder as he continued: "You are lucky I am in a pleasing disposition and did not gut you right here. Pack your rags and leave!".

He was about ready to let him go and head for the door, when Savoy, finally coming out of the confusing state Guy's fist had left him in, managed to push his hands away and punch him in the lower left side of the abdomen. Guy gave out a low, painful grunt and released Savoy, bending over to try and catch his breath.

The count did not waste this opportunity and punched Guy in the face as hard as he could, drawing blood from his cheek and unbalancing him. "I am a count!", he said wiping the blood from his nose. "I am no man's boy."

Guy took a few seconds to catch his breath and then jumped up grabbing hold of Savoy, pinning him to the wall once more. He was much larger physically, so there was no contest. "Because you dress yourself in silks?", Guy asked with disdain grabbing hold of the count's robe and holding him in place with his hand on his neck. "Take the money, _boy,_and leave!"

"Why don't you leave her to me, Gisborne?", Savoy said mocking him. "You could make better use of the money. What do you know of women like her? She's better off with me.". A punch to the liver and Alessandro was silenced. He would have collapsed to the floor if it had not been for Guy's grip on him.

"Make no mistake, _boy_, if she smiled kindly upon you, if she let you kiss her hand it was only because I allowed it. She is mine! And I would rather see her dead then with you."

"Does she close her eyes when you take her, Gisborne?", Savoy asked through the gasps for air. "Does she cry when you plunge into her like an animal? Who do you think she wished was on top of her …hmmm?!? From now on, it will always be me! …It is better …". Savoy was silenced by Guy crushing his head against the wall … Two punches to the face fallowed and he raised his leg to hit him in the stomach …The man was done for and Guy released him only to see his body collapse to the floor.

"Take the money and leave, _boy_", Guy said grabbing a towel from the table and wiping his hands of the blood, "before I decide to keep it and run you through with my sword". With that he threw the towel onto Savoy's body and turned around to leave.

And there, in the doorway stood his wife. He did not know for how long she had been standing there but the look of shock she had on her face and the concerned way her eyes moved about the room made him angry. "Go back to your room.", he ordered in a harsh voice.

She did not move and kept on staring down to the body collapsed behind him. "What did you do to him?". Not a look, not a concerned thought was granted to his own bruised face and that hurt him.

"Go back to your room!", he barked getting closer to her.

She took a few steps backwards and looked up at him with fear. "Is he dead?"

"Why do you care?", he asked grabbing hold of her arm. "Go back to your room or I will drag you there myself!."

"I will not!", she lashed out, pulling away from him. "I want to see how he is.", she said trying to get passed him. He pushed her away and out the door.

"I am fine, Isabella …", came the frail voice of Savoy.

Guy looked at his wife and saw her closing her eyes and sighing in relief.

"Christ's blood!", he bellowed throwing his head back in frustration. He came out of Savoy's chamber and closed it behind him. He pulled her to him and bending slightly, threw her over his shoulder. If she wanted to be obstinate, he had a way of curing that.

As he moved through the hallway, she struggled behind him, hitting his back with her small fists, managing to alert the soldiers with her screams and disheveling herself completely but not doing much to unbalance her husband's grip on her. "Does it give you pleasure to humiliate me in this manner?", she screamed back at him. "Treating me as if I were a sack of flour … You are a bastard, Guy of Gisborne!".

Guy frowned at the offence and brought his hand up, slapping her hard over the bottom. She gave out a loud "Auuuu!" and wiggled trying to break free … His large hand came down once more and hit her even harder. "Not another word", Guy warned her, "or once inside I will use my belt!". This silenced her.

He finally arrived in front of her chamber and kicked the door open with his leg. He stepped inside and released her. The threat of his belt was still fresh in her mind so she remained still and silent. She just tried to arrange her hair and gave him a cold, dark look of rage.

"It occurs to me that I have been too lenient towards you, wife", Guy said frowning with his arms folded. "And you have forgotten your marital duties."

She had to bite her tongue not to tell him that he had forgotten them also, but managed to remain quiet.

"You will stay here!", he ordered reaching for the door and grabbing the key from the inside lock. Her eyes widened and she moved closer to him. "You will stay here", he repeated, "and wait for me. I want you pretty tonight, wife,", he said mockingly, his cold eyes keeping her away from the door, "and eager to please.". He took a few steps backwards and grabbed hold of the door knob … "Ah! And, wife, wipe those ridiculous things off your face."

With that he stepped out of the room and started closing the door just as she run towards it. "Don't you dare, Guy of Gisborne! Don't you dare lock me up in here!". By the time she reached it, the door had been slammed in her face. "Open this door! Open this door right now!", she screamed banging against it with her hands and legs. "You bastard!", she screamed and Guy could hear some random object slamming against the door as he turned the corner.

After breaking everything that she could find within reach, all aimed against the door, including the face dyes and her perfumed water bottle, that she happened to be very fond of, Josephine grabbed hold of the scissors and headed for the clothing chest … She took out every single garment throwing it over her shoulder until she discovered the item she had been looking for: the green dress.

She took it out and turned towards the middle of the room. She used both the scissors and her hands to take it apart, pulling at it frantically, screaming and cursing out her husband's name until there was nothing left … nothing but shreds and pieces. She threw them on the floor and stepped over them again and again until she could do so no more.

She stood back once she was done and looked around herself …The bed was disheveled and rumpled …The chair from her table was thrown sideways and the table had been cleared of all her brushes and vanity items … They had found their place on the floor. The face dyes were spread across the fur rug near the fire place. They would probably stain. The flower vase from the dinning table had found its end next to the wall and the water that had spilled from it was slowly spreading onto one of her dresses … And there, in the middle of the room, she looked upon her green dress …It was wrinkled and broken … only bits and pieces of what had once been something beautiful … Just like her. She was mangled and torn to shreds inside just like her dress.

At first Alessandro had managed to make her content. He had healed her wounded pride with his compliments. He had been attentive and kind to her and that had made her feel free … But soon enough it came back. She did not know why or for what purpose but Alessandro did not satisfy her anymore … She started using her needle again. She used it more then ever before. Her mind could not make sense as to why she was doing it when everything was going just as she wanted it to. The needle seemed to fill an absence in her that nothing could satisfy … Not Savoy and his presents … not her planning and scheming.

And in that moment she realized just how unhappy she really was. There was a vastness of it inside her so deep that she feared it would drawn her. She cried out and fell to the floor as uncontrollable howls overpowered her causing her to loose her breath. She had to leave this place! She had to leave now! Otherwise she would die.

Long after she could cry no more, she laid stretched on the floor rocking herself and humming. She played with one of the green pieces of her dress and saw her mind void of any thoughts. Her hair was loose and spread around her as it had fallen from her pins, until only one remained. She took it out with her free hand and looked at it for a while, turning it around between her fingers. "I have to leave this place.", she thought all of a sudden.

She stood up quickly … her hair a mess, her face stained by the mixture of tears and her face dyes. She looked around first at the door. It stood still and unmoved. Then her eyes traveled through the room in search of something else …Among the broken pieces of her breakfast plates that stood silent over the redness of one of her paints, she saw a knife.

She jumped up on her feet and quickly made her way to it through the destruction of her room … She grabbed it and headed for the door. Placing her hand on the handle to hold it in place, she first pushed the sharp tip of the knife into the lock. Then using her pin, she moved it around trying to find the trigger … She turned it to the right and then to the left, again and again, until it gave way and the door opened.

She parted it just enough to look around and see if there was anyone on the hallways. Once she was sure the passage was clear, she flung open the door and started running, still holding the green piece in her hand.

She run faster and faster putting distance between herself and what she had left behind. All she could hear were her steps falling on the stone floor as she run across the old, abandoned hallway, towards the left outer passage way that people rarely used and that led to the inner garden of Nottingham Castle. She reached the large, wooden doors at the end of the hallway and used all the strength she could muster up to push them open. She stood still for a few seconds as the crisp, night wind creped all around her. "It's nightfall!", she thought, hearing her heart beat out of her chest. Finally she stepped over the ridge and out into the night.

She quickened her step through the passage way and came down the stairs, holding her dress high. Then, with no idea what to do next she stopped in the middle of the garden and stared into the darkness.

"Isabella!", Savoy called out.

She turned immediately when she heard that name that was so foreign to her but that she knew so well. He did not come the same way as she had. He was advancing from the eastern entrance, the same that led to the stables.

He reached her quickly and grabbed hold of her face. "Are you alright?", he asked looking into her dye smeared features. "Has he harmed you?"

"No.", she said looking away.

"Are you sure?", he asked bringing her face back to him with his hand. "You look like you've been crying. What did he do to you?".

"Nothing!", she said louder pulling away from him as tears started pouring again. "Don't speak of him …", she whispered only for her ears to hear.

"You must come with me …", Savoy said grabbing her arm and pulling her towards the stables.

"Where?", she asked looking at him and refusing to move. There was no objection in her voice. She just wanted to know …

Savoy turned to her and pulled her into his arms. "You will like L'Italia, Isabella!", he said with a smile. "Remember the hill overlooking the sea?", he asked. "The same one I told you I would visit every day?". She nodded. She had liked that story. "I will build you a castle there.", he said caressing her face slowly as she looked up at him with hope, "A white castle with ivory towers and blue minarets. You will be able to see the sea every day and fall asleep hearing it from you bed chamber every night."

She closed her eyes to imagine it. A beautiful white castle with ivory towers, blue minarets and the sea … as far as you could distinguish just the sea! She liked this story.

"Would you like that?", he asked. She nodded keeping her eyes closed. Her face was luminous and unburdened. "I will make you happy, Isabella.", he whispered next to her ear just like the soft summer breeze and she brought her hand up to cares his face … his bruised, swollen face.

And then … the count kissed her. His arms pulled her up to meet him. His mouth attentively touched her own, feathery at first and then more profoundly until, finally, her lips gave way and parted, allowing him access.

It felt good to be kissed and it had been so long since she had received this kind of closeness. She enjoyed it, for the count knew what he was doing quite well and she clenched her hands into the back of his tunic. trying to hold on to this new found feeling of comfort.

But then …then her heart leaped and she felt the vastness overpowering her once more until she almost screamed out. And this time she knew why. It was not the count she wanted to taste. She longed for the sweet taste of apples and lemons that he had denied her since she had come back. It was not the count's soft, tender arms that she wanted around her. She missed the feel of those two, large hands possessively grabbing her and pulling her closer or encaging her face.

It was not the count's skilful mouth that she wanted to feel over her own. It was that soft, tender mouth that would press upon her own, leaving her breathless, selfishly demanding everything out of her, rougher at times but always loving … It was Guy … Always Guy.

She pulled away from Savoy and looked down. It was now that she noticed she was still holding part of her green dress in her right hand. She opened her fist to see the wrinkled material, damp now under the pressure of her cold, sweating skin.

"Come with me now!", Savoy said as she kept staring at her hand. He pulled her by her left arm and directed her towards the stables.

She fallowed, taking a few steps before another sharp pain inside her chest stopped her. "No!", she said pulling her arm free.

Savoy turned around quickly with a surprised look on his face.

Through all of her confusion, Josephine could tell there was also anger there and she knew Alessandro would not allow her to leave. And she needed to. She needed to leave now! "My maid!", she blurted out. "I can't leave without her."

Savoy threw his head back in frustration and something close to relief. "We don't have time for that. Forget her!", he said reaching out for her hand.

She pulled away before he could touch her and took a few steps backwards. "No!", she shouted in a harsh voice that shocked Savoy. "I cannot leave …", she said. She paused of a second to try and catch her breath and then added: "her".

Savoy looked around quickly, fearing that someone might hear or see them. It was obvious she was quite determined. "All right.", he said in a soothing voice. "Go find her.", he told her and could see her face light up immediately. "I will be waiting outside the stables. My party is already assembled.". She nodded. "Be quick, my love!", Savoy said kissing her again.

She pulled from his embrace quickly and started running up the stairs and through the passage way. She ran through the wooden doors and then turned to close them behind her like a shield. She breathed hard as she made her way through the hallway and towards her chamber. She reached it just as quickly as she had left it and nothing in it had changed.

Walaa' was nowhere to be found. She had sent her to talk to Archie that morning and she still had not come back.

Josephine stood in the doorway of her chamber and looked upon the disaster she had left behind only minutes before. Broken glass and torn green fabric everywhere. Wrinkled bed covers under which no pleasure had occurred, withered flowers on the floor …The room was hallowing of dissolution. And then …the image of a white castle, with ivory towers and blue minarets came to mind. She could see it … clear as day, standing in the sun light, on a tall green hill and in front of it …the sea.

Once again Josephine turned her back on her chamber and walked towards the passage way. She wasn't running anymore …Her steps were long and confident. She kept her head high and her eyes clear. "An ivory tower, blue minarets and the sea", she kept saying to herself over and over again until she reached the wooden doors.

She had not closed the doors properly and the night light had creped in through the crack. She confidently placed her hands over the handles, decided upon pulling those doors open when a sharp pain in her chest stopped her. The image of Guy appeared before her eyes …as he laid sleeping the day after he had found her in London. He looked tired then, she remembered, and broken …Huge bags underlined his eyes, lines that had not been there before crossed his face …"No!", she shouted. She could not do that to him again.

She turned around and headed up towards her chamber. It took just a few confident steps for the image of what would await her back there to make her turn around. "An ivory tower, blue minarets and the sea", she thought. Once again she reached out for those handles and once again the image of Guy stopped her. It was him giving her the necklace, now. There had been something in his eyes in that moment … Something resembling hope. The hope of finding what he had been looking for …"No!". She could not take that away from him again.

Minutes slowly passed like that … with her pacing up and down the dark, abandoned hallway, holding a small green fabric in one hand and with the other one firmly placed upon her heart, trying to catch the breath that seemed to be escaping her.

-oOo-

It took some time for Guy to find a soldier to send to keep guard over his wife. Most of the guards, except those kept to protect Nottingham Castle, were away looking for the Butcher … or Robin Hood … or Saladin's secret spies … None of the men knew anymore. They just knew they spent too much time in the forest and that was not agreeing with them. Still the orders had been given from the Sheriff himself and even if Gisborne had protested, saying that is was pointless, soldiers were still sent.

It was not until the late hours of the afternoon that a guard made his way towards Lady Gisborne's chamber only to find it wide open and devastated ... The poor man's heart stopped for a second and he cursed his bad luck. He knew Gisborne would punish him for this.

Luckily for him, punishment was the last thing on Guy' mind. The soldier had the surprise of watching his commander turn to white stone right before his eyes. He was then pushed out of the way as Gisborne stormed out of his chamber and was fallowed by William Shepard.

Guy stood in front of the devastated room and looked upon it with calm yet cold eyes. Shepard had suggested that force had been used to extract the lady from the chamber, judging by the state the place was in but Guy shook his head. He knew better. It had been her. The green dress in the middle confirmed it. His wife was capable of many things and one was destruction. She was a dangerous woman.

"Go keep a watch on the count's coach and tell me when he leaves. We'll give them some time and surround them at the edge of the forest …", Guy said quietly and entered the room.

"We're going after the count?", Shepard asked amazed. He knew that the lady was most likely with that man, but for Gisborne to go after them would have to mean only one thing … The count was going to die tonight … the lady as well, probably … Saving face would demand that of Gisborne.

Guy turned around to face his right hand man and nodded. Then he closed the door . He wanted to be alone.

She had managed it again, he thought. Once again he felt as if he couldn't breath. Once again he felt as if he had lost half of himself. He never would have thought it possible but the pain was even stronger this time. She had left him again.

The first time she had abandoned a chamber, she had left it in a perfect and quiet stillness, void of everything that might resemble life … Now she had left behind her a mess … He thought it much more appropriate. He recognized himself in this mangled surrounding. He felt as if he was made from shreds of green material and broken glass. She had thrown a stone right at him and it broke him in a million pieces.

He didn't know what he was going to do with her now. He could never trust her again, but he could not let her go with another. He could not let her be his wife again but he could not kill her.

He sighed as he removed his leather tunic and put it on the back of the chair placed next to the door. Soon enough the count's coach would leave Nottingham Castle and the hunt would begin. The next time he would be faced with her, she would be nothing to him anymore. A mere decoration, an ornament … He regretted not having enjoyed her fully because he would never touch her again. She would be dead to him.

But for now …He moved towards the bed. He threw the blanket away and the pillows and proceeded to arrange the sheets. Once they were neat and straightened, he fluffed the pillows between his strong hands and placed them one next to the other … He straighten the blanket in midair and placed upon the bed, running his hand over it again and again until it was wrinkle free.

Once he was done he moved towards the center of the room and bent down to gather all of the shredded green pieces and placed them upon the table, one next to the other. He could not bring himself to throw them into the fire. He, then, went to the left corner of the large, stoned wall chamber and picked up the broom.

Minutes passed until he had managed to sweep all the broken glass and other useless things that had so carelessly been smashed and then he placed all of the items that could be salvaged in their respective places: in front of _her_ mirror, on _her_ table …in _her_ clothing chest. He did all this calmly and quietly.

Only the rug remind and the big stains the dyes had left on the floor. He first put the broom back from where he had found it and then poured water from the pitcher next to the bed into the washing bowl. He then went in search of a cloth which he found in one of the drawers and headed for the fireplace. He put the bowl down and rolled the fur rug tightly, placing it next to the wall in one of the corners of the room.

He then bent down and positioned himself on his hands and knees and started scrubbing the colorful dirt away.

He had only once done this before but he could remember it as if it was yesterday. It was on the day his mother had died. It had not been an easy death … there had been pain and blood, faeces and vomit. He had been angry that day …to see his mother die like that had killed something in him. His beautiful, kind, graceful mother would have deserved a quiet, sleeping decent into death. Her agony had remained testament of how damned the Gisbornes really were long after she was no more. Then, as now, he had looked over the room and closed it behind him.

He could have paid someone to do it, of course. He was not rich then and they lived in a dingy little place. The Lionheart had left them with very little after he had taken the Gisborne lands away from them. Still he could have asked someone else to do it but he didn't. He had placed himself on his hands and knees and scrubbed away until he couldn't feel his hands anymore. Until the thought that he was now alone in the world had been comfortably numbed in his mind.

He did the same now. Long after the stains were no more, he kept scrubbing the cold stone. When he finally stopped, he picked up the dirty water and threw it out the window together with the cloth.

He proceeded to wash his hands and blow out all the candles until only the pale light of the full moon creeped in through the parted windows. He finally sited himself on the chair next to the door and breathed.

"Come back.", he heard himself say. "Come back to me." … Only the emptiness answered.

He had been standing there for some time when the door was pushed open and she bursted into the room. The sight of the thing that he loved most in this world, the same that he had thought lost only moments earlier caused him to look at her transfixed.

His first inclination had been to jump up and pull her to him, but something stopped him. She looked like a mad woman. Her hair disheveled, her hands trembling … She moved around confused and most of all, she was sobbing.

Her crying frightened him … It was so desperate and wild, it sent shivers down his spine. He wondered if the tears were because Savoy did not want to take her with him … But he knew better. He knew exactly how much Savoy wanted his wife. He had the exact number, down to the last gold coin. "No.", he thought. She was the one who refused to leave. That pleased him even if he knew he had no reason to. It was obvious she was not happy here.

Before he had a chance to react, she had already reached her mirror and sited herself in front of it. She lit the candle placed on the dressing table and opened one of the drawers with trembling hands. Between sobs she took out her sawing basket and placed it on the table.

Guy was surprised to watch the scene unfold. This was hardly the time for sawing, he thought. He has even more shocked when he saw her push the chair further from the table and turn around slightly in order to have better light. She slowly lifted the hem of her dress higher and higher, with trembling hands. When it was high over her thighs she spread her legs, between sobs. She lifted her right hand up and with a flicker of light Guy saw the needle. In a mere moment the hand came down and pushed the needle straight into the flesh.

In that moment Guy stood up and with two long movements he was next to her. "What are you doing?", he said alarmed.

She jumped up in surprise and forgot to take the needle out. It remind in her, dangling. She looked up at him with her large eyes and then quickly to the other side. She could not bare to look at him. She was so ashamed that he caught her doing this. She just sobbed in silence. She tried to close her legs but one firm, warm hand placed on the knee stopped her.

He looked at her. First at her face, puffy and smeared ... her eyes red from countless hours of crying, no doubt. She sighed now and again, taking quick breathes to try and regulate her breathing. She seemed so small and fragile to him. Then his eyes trailed down to her legs and he felt a sharp pain to the chest. Her beautiful round thighs were covered in black, purple and green bruises all along the flesh. There was hardly any white left. She must have been doing this for a very long time. He dropped down to look at them closer and then up at her. "What have you done, Josephine?", he asked in a concerned, tender voice. She shrugged.

His long fingers trailed over the flesh lightly, careful not to cause her pain. He felt her shudder under his touch and he stopped. He placed his fingers over the needle.

"Stop!", she said slowly wanting to push his hand away. He did not let her. Instead he pulled the silver object out as gently as possible.

"You're done with this!", he announced taking the needle and placing it on the table, far from her.

"No!", she screamed, panic and pleading in her voice. "I need it!". She tried to reach out for it but he quickly grabbed her, pulling her down from the chair and into his arms.

"No, you don't! You're stronger then this. You're stronger then me …You do not need it."

"Yes, I do!", she yelled desperately trying to pull away from his fierce embrace but it would not do.

"Please!", she pleaded, sobbing into his neck. "Give it back. You've taken everything else away from me …I need it. I'm not strong. I'm the weakest person I know. Please! Please, help me!", she sobbed over and over again. "Help me, my husband! Help me, Guy!".

Her pleads pierced his soul. Her body shuddered into his arms and would not stop. "Fine!", he said all of a sudden pulling her away from him. "If you're going to do it, then I'm doing it also!".

She looked up at him in surprise as he stood up and raised the sleeve of his undershirt. She realized how long it had been since she had seen him like this, without his "armor" as she had come to think of the leather tunic. The black undergarment accentuated his strong muscles and his chest … Through all of her pain and confusion, she could feel her desire for him rise with every breath he took.

He raised the needle and closed his fist hard making the veins in his wrist stand out. Before he had dropped the needle into the flesh, she jumped up and grabbed hold of his hand. "No!", she screamed and kissed his untouched wrist again and again.

He smiled at that. For the first time in a long time the warm, beautiful smile reached his eyes and they gleamed with love for her. He caressed her face and brought it up to look at him. "Promise me you will never use it again."

She was not crying anymore. She swallowed a few times, looked around and finally said: "I promise."

He was content and brought both his hands up to push away the hair that had been stuck to her face. He then moved towards the water pitcher and poured some water into the water bowl. He brought it to the table together with a clean towel and lit a candle.

He guided her to the table without saying a word and placed her in front of it. She leaned against it slightly and put both her hands onto it to balance herself. He dipped the towel into the water and proceeded to wipe her face clean. His hands were soft and tender and they went over the skin with careful long movements. She just watched him in amazement, unable to speak. She finally closed her eyes, enjoying the feel of the cooling water over her swollen features and the smell of him so near to her. The feeling went on for a while until, all of a sudden, it stopped. She felt the absence of his hands immediately but before she was able to protest, he was already closer to her then before, his hands at the back of her dress unlacing it. "What are you doing?", she asked, with eyes half open, her voice roughed from the crying, a glim of mischief back in her gaze.

He smiled his usual wolfish half grin before dropping his head down and whispering in her ear, his hot breath falling on her neck. "I'm trying to claim you back, if you'll let me."

After that there was no more talk. She remained still as he removed first the dress and then her undershift to reveal her to him … She was just as beautiful as he remembered, he thought, and could not help but smile in appreciation. He dropped to his knees and parted her legs. His mouth run over her wounds over and over again, tender and soft and healing, until he heard her sighing and felt her hand on the back of his neck. He made his way up kissing her abdomen, holding her hand tightly into his own. He cupped her breasts and kissed the space in between them … her collar bone … her neck … He was going further and further until he stopped. He wanted to kiss her … to kiss those red lips he had once claimed as his own but that had given him such torment. He knew if he did he would be lost forever so he didn't. Instead he traced her jaw line with his tongue and nibbled on her ear, pushing her head back and rubbing against her, already hardened.

"Guy!", he heard her sigh in her moaning, roughed voice. He loved that sound. He loved when she called out his name. She lifted her leg up and rubbed it against his thigh.

He pulled her up and placed her upon the table, positioning himself between her legs. The candle was burning yellow and casting light on her hair … it was spread down on her back … dark and red and honey. He needed her so much! More then he had thought he did. He needed to feel her tight and hot around him.

He remembered the last time he had made taken her. It had been quick and rough. He had not even removed his tunic. Now he lifted his undershirt over his head and quickly discarded it. The breeches and boots had the same fate … until he stood just as naked as she. He needed to feel her skin against his own. His woman … his mate.

He pulled her to him and was pleased to feel her legs immediately surround his waist and remained tightly around him. He place one of his hands on the small of her back while the other trailed along her thigh. He took one of her breasts into his mouth and run his tongue over the hardened nipple again and again, while his hand found the warm spot between her legs and searched her pressing into the wet passage way until he could do so no more. He guided himself to her and finally connected their bodies. There was a sound of relief that escaped both their lips, as if they had been expecting the exact same thing.

She grabbed hold of him fiercely as he trusted into her with rhythmical, long movements driving her to the edge. She pushed her hand into his hair and pulled him to her. She called out his name again and again, while he kissed her shoulder and wrapped his large, warm arms around her. She felt herself go …slowly at first and then quicker until she was consumed. She felt him shudder against her as he released his seed into her.

And then it was over. She felt him slide out of her and suddenly saw herself exposed. She did not want to let go of him … "Never again!", she thought but she didn't want him to be the first to reject her so she pulled away.

He, however, did not allow it. He pulled her back to him and tightened his embrace as he rested his chin on her shoulder. Finally she was calm. She rested her body into his and placed her head on his shoulder.

How long they stood like this … him feet bare over the cold, stone floor, her naked on top of the table … she did not know. She lost track of time and simply felt safe. He rocked them back and forth slowly until she closed her eyes and fell into a warm numbness that was the closest thing to sleep she had gotten in some time. There was knocking at the door but neither of them reacted. It eventually stopped.

He felt his hands fall lower, over her bottom as he gripped her and pulled her off the table. She made no attempt to lower her legs and remained still as he carried her body to the bed. He put his knee down first and lowered her onto the middle of the bed. Finally she released him and looked at her husband as he lifted her legs and pulled the cover over her.

She expected him to leave and did not know how to beg him not to. She needed to sleep next to him tonight. Her need of him was infinite. But she did not have to. He had no intention to leave. He pulled the covers and laid next to her, face up. She turned her body around on her side to look at him better and in doing so, without planning it, put one of her hands over his arm. She did not dare do more. There had been a time when she had cuddled against his open arms but that was so long ago.

"Your hand is cold.", he said without looking at her.

"I'm sorry!", she said quietly pulling the hand away quickly.

"No!", he said grabbing it back. Her small, beautiful hand …He placed it over his heart and kept his hand over it to keep it warm.

"Did you lay with him?", he asked looking at her this time, his eyes searching for answers and fearing what he would find.

She looked at him for a while, her eyes big and sincere. She shook her head. "No!".

"Good!", he said, the sound of relief evident in his voice. "I have something for you …", he said and got up from the bed quickly .

She watched him as he grabbed something from his tunic and made his way back. He took her left hand into his own and then she saw it … The wedding ring. She had always thought that he had thrown it away but he had kept it all this time. He dropped his mouth to her finger and took it in. He placed the ring on and looked at her. She had tears in her eyes.

He got into the bed once more and placed her hand over his heart. They both soon fell asleep.

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ok ... so this last part was a lot of fluff ... hope it was good enough to keep you warm for the things I have planned next!!!!!!!!! remember reviews equal love! 


	29. Chapter 28: The consequences of anger

ok ... so new chapter!!!!!!! sorry to have taken longer then usual ... it's been a crazy couple of weeks for me but finally ...here it is! and all I can say is I hope the fluff from the last chapter keeps you warm ...

* * *

Chapter 28 – The consequences of anger

A week had passed since the Gisbornes had returned from Nottingham and things were unusually warm between the two of them …or so Thornton had noticed. He had gotten so used to seeing the master and his lady at each other's throats that seeing them through the door of Locksley Manor, when they first arrived, walking hand in hand had truly left him astonished.

As Thornton gave instructions for the grooms to take the mistresses things up to her chamber, Gisborne had interrupted him by saying: "Take my wife's things to the master's chamber, Thornton." … He did not look at the lady while he was saying all of this and he kept his posture rigid as if he had lost some kind of battle … Whether said battle was with the lady or himself, Thornton did not know.

All he saw was that Lady Gisborne smiled at her husband's words and, without saying anything, fallowed her belongings up the stairs, with soft, round movements, trailing the banister with her long, slim fingers. She paused for a mere moment once she was at the top and gave her husband a soft, mischievous look, over the shoulder.

What the look entailed Thornton could not say with all certainty but Gisborne sat watching her until she was out of sight and even went as far as the Great Hall where he managed to remain for a whole of five minutes, before throwing his wine goblet on the table, storming out of the hall and up the stairs. He shot the door to his chamber behind him loudly and, after that, there was no sight of either of them for the entire duration of the day.

In the days that fallowed the dust seemed to have finally settled at Locksley Manor. The open war between Lord and Lady Gisborne had taken its toil on not only them but their servants as well. Gisborne had been more severe then ever to all of his serfs and they were only beginning to discover Lady Gisborne …

There had been a time where they had thought her a kind and generous mistress and pitied her for having to be married to the devil … It was a different matter now. Ever since Mary and her son, everyone trembled in her presence. She had the power to destroy them with just a lift of her finger and they finally knew it.

And none was more afraid of her then Gretchen. Lady Gisborne had done nothing to her as of yet but everyone in the house knew that the lady always paid her dues … Gretchen had once called the mistress "an old, barren witch", flaunted her imagined success in her face and bragged about how much the master enjoyed bedding her to everyone who would listen, even if all the people in the Manor had warned her against it … But now, as she handed Lady Gisborne spices, seeing as she had taken a fancy to cooking her husband's meals again, she trembled like a leaf dropping the content of her spoon on more then one occasion.

At all of this the lady did not reply. There were no harsh words, no slaps across the face … She smiled kindly upon her and would always ask her in a sweet voice: "Is something the matter, my dear?" … But the smile was cold and it chilled Gretchen to the bone.

She lived in expectance of what her mistress would do to her and yet nothing happened. She was going mad under the uncertainty and had even gone as far as attacking Walaa', jumping on her and saying that she was putting a curse over her.

Gretchen was, however, handled quickly when Walaa''s hand came crushing down on her cheek and she dropped to the floor. The woman told her, in the usual thick accent, that she would not waste a perfectly good curse on her. "My mistress take care of you when she decide and nothing save you then", Walaa' had announced before exiting the kitchen and leaving Gretchen in a state of horror.

In the days that passed everything seemed to be as it normally was. Gretchen still trembled like a leaf and Josephine smiled kindly asking: "Is something the matter, my dear?". It was apparent the lady was starting to clean house.

Gisborne, on the other hand, did not return to Nottingham. He had spent his time in the fields or near his house, arriving at dinner every night. Even if he did not say anything, he enjoyed knowing she had prepared the food he had in front of him. He had not been particularly tender to her since they had returned, especially since he felt certain she knew how much he loved her, no matter how many pains he took to conceal it. Admitting it would be one more proof of her triumph over him. He was not bitter that he had fallen but he would be damned if he would declare it openly …

But, finally despite both their tragically stubborn streaks, there was peace. They were no longer sited at opposite sides of the table, but at each other's side. Their sleep was no longer separated by walls and doors but occurred in the same bed, side by side … and the demons were once more kept safely away.

-oOo-

During breakfast, he had announced that the Sheriff had summoned them for a feast that was going to take place in the evening … Guy did not want to be faced with the Sheriff so soon after their last encounter but he knew he had no choice …It was King John's birthday and he had announced he desired all his closest friends to celebrate it and spread the news far and wide.

Josephine sipped her milk and sighed in discontentment upon hearing the news. He looked at her and kept his voice warm and soothing: "I know, I know …", he said. "But it will be over soon."

She smiled at him and nodded.

Now, they walked through the main hallway of the Manor, quietly. They did not speak a great deal these days, but she had taken to walking him out every morning. It was a short, rather strange walk …Their bodies brushed one against the other but they no longer feared the closeness. They knew full well they would quench it come night fall. They were good at that. Their love making was passionate and gratifying and true to the rest of their relationship, wordless … They did not know what to say to each other … Guy was not accustomed to talking about his business to anyone and was very much used to hiding his emotions from her …And she … She did not want to speak of the things she knew they had to speak of … She did not want to talk of her past for she knew Guy would reject the topic … It gave him torment, she knew full well, but he preferred ignoring it.

Just as they reached the door, Josephine spotted Shepard coming towards the house. He had a few men with him, caring five chests between themselves … She went white on the spot, all cheerfulness drained right out of her face.

Guy saw as the soldiers approached and his eyes turned colder. He looked at her as she sat a few steps away from him, trembling like a leaf. Perhaps he should have told her when he had decided to bring the gold back, he thought. But what right had she to question it? Wasn't it enough that he had tolerated her trespasses?

Shepard paused in front of Gisborne once he had entered the house. After bowing slightly towards Josephine, he spoke: "It's all here, my lord." … Josephine flinched involuntarily.

"Take it to the cellar, Shepard.", Gisborne instructed.

"Guy … no.", Josephine said in almost a whisper. He did not pay attention.

As the soldiers began entering, caring the chests with them, Josephine's distress increased, until she heard herself shout: "Guy, take it back!"

This made the soldiers stop dead in their tracks and looked upon the woman, astonished. Guy turned towards her menacingly and barked, both to his men and to his wife: "Take it to the cellar!", before grabbing hold of her arm and pulling her violently through the hallway and back into the Great Hall, where he slammed the door shut.

"If you ever humiliate me like that again, I will take you to the yard, relieve you of your clothes and cut your hair, madam!", he threatened through his teeth pushing her away from him. "Is that understood?"

She straightned her position and rubbed her arm trying to shake off the pain. "When did you find it?", she asked trying to keep her voice from trembling.

"A few days after I had found you.", he told her, leaning against the door, with a glim of triumph in his eye. "I left it there in the hopes Huntington would come for it … He did not so I brought it here."

"It is not too late, I think!", she said quickly, heading towards him and placing her hand on his arm. She looked up at him with hopeful eyes: "You can take it back, Guy."

He pulled his arm away, and headed for the window. "Don't talk foolishly, woman! It does not suit you."

"Aren't I enough?", she screamed getting closer to him and putting both her arms on his shoulders, forcing him to turn towards her.

"It's my money!", he said trying to calm himself. She was so close to him now and his resolve faltered …

"It's Isabelle's money …", she said quietly.

"Say that again …", he responded grabbing hold of both her arms and shaking her.

"He will not stop!", she screamed. "He will come for it. He will not give up!".

"I am counting on it.", he nodded.

"If he comes back, I won't … I won't be able to …", she tried explaining but could not find the words. "He will take me away from you.", she finally said quietly, dropping her eyes to the floor.

He released her and pushed her away in disgust. He starred at her in shock. He had thought that Huntington was nothing to her anymore. He had heard her screaming in her sleep, trying to get away from him but now she was telling him that if forced to choose, she would go with her lover … He felt a blow to the stomach and his eyes hardened as rocks upon her … "The money will stay here!", he said decidedly, leaving no room for her objections. "I think it is best if I ride into Nottingham with my soldiers, now. You will come in the evening. I will instruct a groom to prepare the cart."

She starred at him, her eyes wide and disbelieving: "You mean to leave me without an escort? To travel through the forest alone, at night?". It was obvious the thought terrified her.

It was always surprising to him that she could be afraid. He had come to think of her as fearless, but in this instance it suited him to keep her so. "Don't be so dramatic, Josephine. All will be well. I'm sure of it.", he said ironically heading for the door.

"Do not mock me!". She ran up to him and grabbed his arm turning him around, once more. He was getting weary of being pulled around. "There are outlaws in the forest, Guy!", she said. "There is the Butcher!".

"Ahhhh! I had not thought of that!", he admitted razing his eyebrows. "Well, I'm sure you can handle Hood and his gang. After all, you told me how closely you two were connected.", he continued bitterly, remembering when she had told him she had bedded Hood. Nothing, in his entire life, had stung more then that. "As for the Butcher …", he paused long enough to retrieve a small, silver dagger from his tunic and placing it in her hand, "you can take him!". He winked at her as she looked first at the knife and then at him, shock and pain disheveling her face. "Come now!", he said patting her on the shoulder, as if she was a child. "The Butcher is no match for you … or isn't that what Savoy said?", he asked his voice cold all of a sudden.

She quickly looked up into his eyes and asked him in a guarded voice: "You are punishing me for Savoy now? Why? It was you who pressed him upon me."

"You left me no choice, did you?", he responded angry. "If you had behaved like a decent woman instead of a …". Her eyes hardened and he was silenced. A while ago he had spoken those words without thinking about it twice, but now he could not. "But you can't help it. It comes naturally to you … It's who you are …", he finished with disgust. But it wasn't at her that it was aimed. It was at himself. He knew full well she was not to blame for Savoy. She had done nothing wrong. Savoy liked women and how could he have helped himself from liking his woman? Any sane man would.

He expected her to strike him. He deserved it … She did not. She kept her arms around her body, her hands clenched in fists. "Yes, it is true …", she said coldly. "It is who I am. I cannot change that. There have been men before you …They were neither loved nor welcomed but there have been men.". Admitting it hurt and it hurt even more when she looked into his eyes. She knew, in that moment, he would never forgive her for it. He wanted a pure, innocent wife and she fell short of it. "But believe me when I tell you", she continued, placing her hand on his arm and coming closer to him, "I have loved no other but you, husband."

"Husband?", he repeated with distain. "I'm not your husband.", he spat out.

She pulled her hand away quickly and stood still, starring into his stone features. "Excuse me?"

"I married Isabelle de Bracy. _You_ are not Isabelle de Bracy. You are an impostor and a liar …and you are, at best, my lover … for lack of a better word.". Again, he expected her to strike him and again she did not. He could tell she was tempted to do it and wondered why she did not.

Josephine nodded and stepped away, turning her back on him. The tears would not come. Instead she felt a large, painful knot in her throat and it became hard for her to talk. "You are right …. Of course". She sighed in resignation. "I can't believe we are here again!"

"Be in that cart in the evening or prepare yourself for the consequences come night fall!", he said, unable to accept his own mistake. He left the room quickly and shut the door behind him.

-oOo-

"She should have been at the castle two hours ago", he thought as he sat at the table in the Great Hall of Nottingham. Everywhere he looked, men were accompanied by their wives … even Montfitchet had managed to get his wife out of the house … Not he …He sat at the table alone, intoxicating himself with wine. He had threatened her with consequences if she did not come, but he knew there was nothing for him to do. He had threatened to cut her hair, but he liked it too much to do that. He had threatened to strip her naked for all of Locksley to see, but he would never give the other men the satisfaction of seeing such a woman naked. He had heard there were men that beat their wives as punishment, in the same manner you might a child. But he could not do that … It was true … he had hit her when his temper had gotten the best of him but he could not contemplate humiliating her in that manner deliberately.

There was nothing for him to do but drink … And so he did for the next hour. He had placed himself comfortably away from the Sheriff and there had been much to distract Vasey that night … so Guy was left alone with his thoughts.

It was his treacherous mind that finally made his heart leap in distress. He had not thought of the possibility of her running away. He had thought she could have run with Savoy, since he was rich and powerful but it had never occurred to him that she might run when there was nothing to be gained … simply to be away from him.

The thought made him jump off his sit and storm out of the Great Hall, while everyone turned to stare at his sudden outburst. He pushed the guards aside and jumped on his horse, pushing harder and harder.

Despite what he had told his wife, he had made sure to tell the groom to take the long road, around the forest as to prevent her falling into any kind of danger. He took the same route home, even if it meant he would travel longer. He still held the hope that she had remained stuck on the road, from some reason. But there was no sight of her cart on the entire road from Nottingham to Locksley.

He jumped off his horse in front of the Manor and pushed the doors aside, without taking the trouble of closing them behind him. He ran up the stairs and opened the door to his chamber almost knocking it to the ground …

His wife was not there but the noise he produced scared Walaa', who had been arranging some of her mistress's things on the dressing table. She flinched and jumped back as she saw Guy standing in the doorway, breathing hard and looking like a mad man. "Where is she?", he barked.

"Master?", the woman asked innocently.

"Where is she?", he asked again getting closer to the trembling woman.

"She go to you …", Walaa' said but before she could continue Gisborne's gloved hand came crashing down on her. He caught her throat in his hand and forced her on her knees. He lowered his face to her and spoke menacingly: "You do not know me but believe me when I tell you I am not a man to be crossed … Where did she go?"

"She go to you …", the woman repeated stubbornly only to have Gisborne's grip on her tighten.

"No! She did not! She left, didn't she? Where did she go?"

"She not leave!", the woman insisted. "She not leave without me …".

Gisborne laughed in the woman's face. "You do not know your mistress well, heathen! You mean nothing more to her then my dogs mean to me."

"My mistress good wife to you!", Walaa' screamed. "She got into cart like you say!".

Something about the way she had spoken the words made Guy release her. He realized she might be speaking the truth … There was a condemning tone to her answers that made her seem honest. And he remembered Josephine had once threatened to throw herself out a window if Walaa' didn't go with her …He straightened his position and looked down on the woman, as she held her neck and coughed slowly. "When did your mistress leave?"

Walaa' could not remember how much time had passed … but it must have been a while, since there was still day light when her mistress had gotten in the cart … "Hours …" was the only thing she could say.

The answer made Guy's stomach turn to knots … he felt his throat constricted and an overwhelming sense of fear overpowered him. He left the room as quickly as he had entered it and moments later he found himself on his horse, holding a torch, riding out of Locksley and towards Sherwood Forest …

He did not know why, really … It was entirely probable that Josephine had left without Walaa' … Or so he told himself, as he advanced through the darkness of the leaves and the dampness of the muddy ground under him … The wind was howling that night, causing sounds that chilled him to the bone …

Not that far from the entrance into the forest, he found it … The cart … He jumped off his horse and approached it slowly, drawing his sword in the process. The first thing he noticed was a large, heavy trunk placed in the middle of the road, no doubt with the intention of blocking the path so the cart would have no other option but to stop. Near the trunk he saw a body … His heart stopped for a moment … until he assessed that it was a man's … It was the groom … He recognized his clothing.

Any hope that it had been Hood who had stopped the cart, were shattered in that moment. If it had been him, Josephine would have been home by now. Hood was a thief, it was true, but he was a polite one at that … He would rob her but escort her home afterwards … And he did not kill …

He approached the cart slowly, his knees trembling at the thought of the sight he might encounter inside. The door was halfway open and he slowly pushed it aside with his sword. He passed the torch through the interior until his eyes stopped upon a shawl … It was a warm, large purple fabric … He had seen it on her very often. "If she had run away she would not have left her shawl", he reasoned. Winter was upon them and she hated the cold.

The torch moved to the left and revealed a small, silver dagger … _You can take him_ … It was covered in blood. As he moved the flame around it, he could see blood everywhere …

The ground started spinning around him, as a sharp humming replaced the normal noises in his ears. _You mean to leave me alone? _she had asked him. _There's the Butcher …_There was fear in her eyes … He remembered. His breathing increased as cold sweat began covering his body … _He is no match for you_ …

The torch fell to the ground and his own body fallowed … He fell first on his knees and then he brought the rest of his body down as uncontrollable spasms shook him and he spilled forth the entire content of his stomach … He vomited again and again until there was nothing left, holding on to the cart for dear life.

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oh dear me!!!!!!!!!! what have I done ... evil writer, evil writer ... I know, I know ... 


	30. Chapter 29: Swallowed pride

hope it wasn't too long of a wait and that this chapter was worth it!

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Chapter 29 – Swallowed pride

It had been three days and no news of her had reached him. His body lived in expectation of her coming back to him or of finding out that she was dead. The latter would make his stomach turn up side down every time his mind dared to stop on the possibility for even one moment. He willed it not to. He also willed himself not to sleep.

Sleep without her was no comfort in any case but now, it was unbearable. Every time his eyes shut with or without his consent, the images would come over him with the force of steel punches and drag him back to reality.

It was the same tonight. He had fallen asleep for no more then five minutes, in a chair somewhere near the Great Hall, unable to remain awake after countless hours of searching the woods, of pacing nervously in Nottingham practically begging the Sheriff to grant him more men …all this without screaming out his fear and anguish, all this without telling a single soul that his wife might be lost to him forever.

He had dreamt of her … Beautiful and perfect in the beginning, next to him … Her warmth touching his cold body, her hair spread across his chest, her arms held tightly around him …Then she was taken away. He could not tell when or where but she was no more and he found himself searching for her, first in the forest, then through long, dark corridors … He could not see anything, he could not tell where the end was but he ran. He ran frantically through the maze, in search of her, calling out her name … His breathing rugged, his eyes searching left and right …

Until he found her … Her body spread across the cold, faded grass. She stood there in front of him, naked and still, cold and white as marble, her hair arranged around her carefully … just like he had found all the others … His first thought was that she must be cold so he removed his coat and hurried to her, picking her up in his arms in order to place it around her … And that was when he noticed it. Her throat …it was cut open by a long, angry red line. He shook her, telling her to wake up. "Wake up, Josie!", he screamed using the name he had given her in his mind but had never dared to call out loud. "Please, wake up!". And she did … she turned her head around to look at him, her dead features unmoving and cold, her eyes hallow and wild: "Why, Guy?", she asked. "Why, Guy?" … "Why, Guy?" …

That was when he woke up, cold sweat rolling down his back. He stood up in the chair, trying to catch his breath while his hands gripped at his sides widely, willing yet another dream out of his mind. "She is not dead!", he told himself.

He had been saying that ever since the night he had found the cart. After he had managed to pick himself of the cold ground he ran through the forest wildly, for hours, searching for her, searching for a mere shred of her whereabouts …He searched through the darkness and thick vegetation, falling into the mud, ripping his clothes on the thorny branches, screaming out her name … yet nothing! By the first light of day he had to give up. He would not find her by himself and he was wasting precious time.

So he dragged his feet back towards the cart to grab his horse, avoiding looking into the bloody interior one more time and left the forest, even if his entire body demanded him to stay … To stay until he found her.

He didn't know where to go or what to do next. He felt quite certain that if it had been Josephine in his place, she would not have felt so lost. She would have known exactly what to do. But he didn't and finally his uncertainty lead him to Nottingham and in front of William Shepard's house.

He knocked on the door loudly and repeatedly, forgetting that it was just day break and the owners were most likely asleep. The ram shackled door creaked under his blows until at last it parted it's self … A little boy's head popped right from behind it, curious to see who would be making so much noise, still rubbing his sleepy eyes … He was so frightened by the sight of Guy with his hair disheveled, half covered in mud, his eyes cold and wild that he jumped back quickly gasping and leaving the door wide open.

Guy was a little taken aback himself. He had never known Shepard had a child, for there was no doubt the child was his … the reddish hair and high cheek bones were proof enough of that. He had never asked his right hand man anything concerning his life. It was no wonder the only thing he knew about him was where his house was located.

He had never been here though and he was surprised to see the dingy, poor state the house was in. There were barely two rooms in the entire place. The furniture looked flimsy and generally lacking, the fire was not made, to save fire wood no doubt, the walls were cracked and the windows were small and wide open, not allowing much light in but bringing the wind and coldness through the entire place.

He lowered his head in order to fit through the threshold and walked in. It took only one step from him for the boy to step backwards, shaking at the knees.

"Come here, Will!". Shepard's frame appeared in the bed chamber door. He spoke in a stern, commanding voice but Guy could tell he was alarmed. His wife stood behind him, holding her robe tightly around her extremely slender body, while Shepard's arm stood in front of her, shielding her both with his hand and the rest of his body. He stood still, his breeches barely laced in front of him and his sword pointed towards the intruder. His boy ran towards him and clinged to his mother's body.

Guy could tell in that moment that Shepard was ready to kill or die in order to protect his family. There was no concern for himself in that moment. All he thought of was to keep the man that had broken into his house away from his wife and child. It was what a man was supposed to do, Guy thought. It was what _he_ had failed to do. He shook his head in frustration and anger … and shame.

It was only when Shepard had realized that it was Gisborne standing at his door step that he lowered the sword. He frowned but did not say anything. He turned to his wife and instructed her in a controlled, sovereign voice: "Take the boy back in and bring us some wine."

He was obeyed without question, as he always was and his wife retired quickly, only to appear moments later to pour the men, who had since sat down at the wooden table, some wine.

"Is something the matter, my lord?", Shepard asked once they were alone. He sensed Gisborne would not want to talk unless it was just the two of them and it was clear as day that something was the matter. Gisborne was a cool, collected marble figure most of the time. He killed in cold blood, without spearing even a closed eye when he did. The only one who managed to unbalance him was the Sheriff. The only one able to make him break out in a rage was Robin Hood … but neither of the two could ever bring him to this state. Mud covered most of his body, his hair was tangled and wet, his hands filled with scratches made from branches and thorns no doubt, his tunic ripped and torn. His eyes, which usually stared right into your soul chilling your spine, were now unfocused and confused. His face was grim and tired … Shepard had to conclude that it must have been Lady Gisborne … Only that woman had the power to convert Gisborne to this. Before her, Shepard doubted that the lord had the ability to love anyone but since she had arrived, he thought that perhaps he loved her too much for his own good. He wondered what might have happened now. Perhaps the lady had run away again? He feared he might have to take yet another trip to London and he just knew Emily would not be best pleased. She always whined when he was away for more then a day … She said she could not handle Will on her own. Sometimes he resented having married such a simple woman … There was no way for him to explain to her that everything he did, he did in the hopes of offering both of them a better life.

Guy starred into the dried clay cup for a while before drinking the entire content with one single move of the hand. He had not realized how thirsty he was. He wondered what to tell Shepard. He did not want anyone to know … He knew _she_ would not want anyone to know what had happened to her once she'd be back but there was nothing else to tell Shepard. He knew that the man was smart and there was really no explanation for the state of him or for his abrupt visit that had managed to scare Shepard's child senseless so he simply spoke the truth: "The Butcher has my wife." The words hurt even more once he had spoken them and they left a void, painful space inside him. "I want you to gather the men and start searching the woods."

William was stunned. He had not been expecting this. He stood up and turned towards his chamber. "I'll get dressed.", he said and started moving when Guy's hand gripped his wrist, pulling him back, forcing him to turn.

"Don't tell the men who they are looking for. I don't want anyone knowing what has happened to her. I will not allow anyone to make fun of her once she is back."

"But she'll be …", Shepard started to say that the lady would surely be dead by the time they'll find her but Guy's eyes, this time cold and focused, stopped him. That was the wild, chill sending look that he knew so well and that he could not help but fear. "Yes, my lord.", he said nodding.

-oOo-

Yet another day had passed and there was nothing … Four days, all his best men and he had achieved nothing. It did not help that his soldiers had silently agreed that they were in fact looking for a dead woman.

Still, news from the search would reach him every few hours … Every time the messenger would walk through the doors of the Great Hall, or catch up with him in the midst of the forest he would hold his breath for as long as it took the man to tell him there was no news. Once the man would leave he would pour himself a goblet of wine and drink it in relief. One goblet was all he would allow himself. He wished he could offer himself the luxury of drinking until he passed out but he could not. He had to keep lucid in order to think of what to do next …

Today the messenger had reached him in Nottingham and once he was alone, he started pacing the room up and down, like a caged lion. He could not pour wine down his throat anymore … There was no repressing her from his mind now. He could not help but think of what she might be going through at this particular moment. The thought of that man on top of her, of her screaming and in pain made him punch the nearest wall in frustration and pure rage. He could not allow himself to scream but he punched the wall again and again, until he managed to bruise it enough for it to bleed … it left a red, dragged stain on the stone wall …

He looked at his hand with clouded eyes, opening his fist and stretching his fingers while the blood surrounded the bruises and he thought of a song his mother used to sing to him when he was a child. It was the tale of a small boy that kills a sparrow with his sling. Years later the woman he loves is taken away from him by death as retribution for his childhood sin.

Guy had never killed sparrows as a child. He had even saved one from certain perish and took care of it for two whole weeks. But he had committed other sins, heinous crimes … He wondered if having her taken away from him was his retribution for having taken so many husbands and sons away from their wives and mothers. If that was the case and he was to find her dead, he knew he would never allow fate to play such a trick on him. He would fallow his wife into death. He would not allow fate to teach him the lesson of repentance through her absence.

He heard a knock on the door that brought him back from his thoughts. He turned towards the table, grabbing a white cloth to tie around his wound in the process. "Come in.", he said, clearing his throat.

It was Shepard. He looked tired and his clothes were dusty. He had barely reached his home in the last two days in order to change his clothes and eat a hot meal for a change. "My lord …", he began, his voice guarded. He knew he had to watch his step with Gisborne, now more then ever.

"Yes. What is it, Shepard?", Guy asked quickly, finally managing to tie the cloth around his hand. He pulled his gloves on … his amour against the world.

"My lord, the men have been looking for four days straight and came back empty handed … We do not know where the Butcher is …", Shepard said only to be stopped mid-way.

The sound of Shepard made Guy angry. It was the sound of a man trying to reason with a mad man. For all he cared, it might as well be true. Perhaps he had gone mad but those men were going to stay in the forest, along with Shepard and himself until they found her. "And what do you propose we do?", he asked menacingly.

"I do not know …", the man said quietly. "But we cannot continue in this manner. We are making no progress and the more time that passes the …".

"Don't you think I know that?", Guy barked. "_The clearer it becomes she is dead_", he finished the sentence in his mind. The thought also managed to deflate his anger, and he sat in front of the table, placing his head between his hands.

"What is left for us to do?", Shepard insisted.

"There is something …", Guy said quietly, his voice muffled into his hands, as a thought occurred to him. If he was honest with himself, he knew the thought had been there all along, lurking in the back of his mind. But he had been too proud and stubborn to act upon it. Even now he did not know if he could allow himself to do it.

In the end it was not a choice. She had to come first so he jumped off his seat and headed for the door. "Come with me.", he told Shepard.

They walked through the corridors towards her room, Guy first and Shepard behind him, wondering why they were heading towards Lady Marian's chamber … but then he realized it and could not help but smile at the irony of it.

Marian's chamber was guarded by soldiers day and night and she was kept under lock and key since she had tried on more the one occasion to either escape or make her way towards her father's cell, since his condition had gotten worst now that winter was upon them.

Guy signaled the guard to open the door and he entered alone, leaving Shepard in the hallway. Marian was sited next to the window, looking on the outside world mindlessly, bored out of her wits. She did not enjoy sawing or the other female activities that might have helped her overcome the long hours of the day by giving her an occupation so she was left to think. She had come to realize that even human thinking ran out at some point. She had gone through every possible topic of conversation with herself at least twice … Guy had given her a woman to keep her company and despite herself she felt grateful for the company even if she suspected the woman was a spy.

"Hello, Marian …", he said walking towards the middle of the room. There was none of his usual sarcasm or gloating at her condition. He was mostly tired and anxious to get it over with.

"Guy, when can I see my father?", she asked unceremoniously as she did every time he entered her room.

"When I say you can.", he responded. "I want you to write a note for me.", he said grabbing her by the arm and directing her towards the table.

"What for?", she asked confused. "To whom?"

"To Robin Hood.", he answered simply pulling her chair for her. "I want you to tell him to meet me oh the southern hill facing Locksley."

Marian laughed. She could not help it even if she knew she shouldn't. It was just that he was so serious and what he was asking was preposterous. "What makes you think Robin will agree to this?".

"Because you will tell him I will kill you if he doesn't.", Guy continued, in the same cold manner.

"Do you think he will care? He puts the common interest above everything else, including me … _as it should be_."

"I think that in this particular case he will make an exception and put you first … _as it should be_.", Guy responded narrowing his eyes. He knew now, more then ever before, what kind of power he held over Hood. The same kind the Butcher held over him at this particular moment, except that Marian was relatively safe while his wife was not. "Come, Marian!", he said razing his voice and pulling her by the hand. "I will not harm you precious Robin. I wish merely to talk to him. Write the blasted note!", he shouted making Marian flinch.

"I will not!", she screamed pulling away from his grip. "I will not help you set a trap for Robin. You can kill me! I will not change my mind."

Guy threw his head back and pulled her roughly towards the table. He sited her at the table by force and shoved a piece of paper in front of her. "Think about it this way, Marian.", he said trying to contain his anger, placing his mouth next to her ear. "Hood can take care of himself. He is the hero of this tale, is he not? … Or so you keep telling me. But your father can not. If you don't write the note I will kill you father with my bare hands and feed his body to my dogs."

Five minutes later Guy came out of the room holding a piece of paper in his hand. He handed it to William Shepard. "Go to Sherwood and drop this note near Hood's hideout."

-oOo-

By the time Guy made his way up the hill with Shepard by his side, Robin was already standing there leaning against the old oak tree, alone as the note had instructed. But Guy was not fooled ... He knew his men were hiding somewhere in the vicinity.

"Well, you called the meeting, Gisborne …", Robin said dryly trying to appear calm even if the closeness to this man was never something he was comfortable with. There was something almost inhuman about Gisborne … and then there was the pressing matter of the itch Robin felt every time Gisborne was near … the itch of picking up his bow and sending an arrow straight through his heart … if for no other reason then to see if he actually had one.

"I want you to find the Sherwood Butcher for me", Guy said, his voice cold, standing rigid in front of Hood with his arms tightly folded in front of him.

Robin laughed … hard and honestly. This was the last thing he expected. "Sure, Gisborne … Why not!", he said wiping the tears his laughter had caused him. "Anything else you'd like my men and me to do for you, _Lord Locksley_?", he asked ironically. "One of my men is a carpenter … perhaps you need some wood mending around the house … perhaps you'd like Much to cook you a fired squirrel. It's his specialty …".

"This is serious, Hood.", Guy interrupted Robin's attack in the same cold manner.

"Then, if that is the case, Gisborne", Robin answered, dropping the smile and getting a few steps closer to the man in front of him. "What makes you think I'd agree to this?"

"Because if you don't, I will kill Marian."

That made Robin lose the last shred of patience he had left. Before either Guy or Shepard could react, he had already pulled his sword and placed it at the base of Guy's neck. "And what is to stop me from killing you right here?", he asked through his teeth.

Not even this could manage to pull Guy out of his cold state. He had frozen. No matter what Hood thought of him, he had faced down death many times in the same manner. He was used to swords at the base of the neck. "You know the rules, Hood. Those haven't changed.", he offered as response. "You kill me, Marian dies."

Robin remained in his position for a few moments before pulling his sword, careful to push it into the flesh as he brought it back, so that it left a rather deep cut on Guy's neck.

Guy's eyes closed momentarily as the sharp pain passed through his body, but he said nothing.

"Contrary to what you might believe, I have been looking for the Butcher …", Robin said after a while. "It will take some time but I will find him."

"You will find him today."

The reply left Robin open mouthed. "What do you think I am, Gisborne? A bloody wizard? I'll just snap my fingers and he'll appear before me?"

"I have no time to lose.", Guy responded. "You must find him today."

"What's the matter, Gisborne? The Sheriff's got you all cornered? You might not have time to waste but I do … I have all the time in the world …", Robin concluded bringing his bow over his head, wrapping his arms through it.

"No, you don't.", Guy told him only to see Robin rolling his eyes. "He has my wife …", he finally blurted out.

This stopped Robin's tirade and he stood still. "Daisy Sea?", he asked. "He's got her? How in the name of bleeding Jesus did you manage that?".

"Excuse me?", Guy asked as Robin finally managed to crack his mask.

"I knew you were a useless monster who didn't deserve such a woman but I would have thought you would have better care of your own wife!"

"Do not speak of her!", Guy barked. "You know nothing about her."

"I know she is too good for you."

"She is my wife!", Guy shouted. "And I will have her back. Now go find the Butcher.", he said turning around, getting ready to leave.

"If he has her, Gisborne,", Robin said, his voice grim and dark, "she is dead."

It was the first time someone had spoken it out loud and it hit him right in the gut. He knew everyone around him thought it but was afraid to say so and he was thankful for it. He could not bare to hear that. He turned around quickly and walked towards Robin. "You better hope she is not because if she is then so is Marian … If she dies, everyone will die.", he told Robin, standing inches away from him. "Everyone. Your woman, your men … people you don't even know. Every where you will turn you will see death. You have a generous heart, Robin of Locksley. It will bleed for every last wretched soul. But no matter how much blood you shed for them, it will never match my own if she is taken from me."

"You are a bastard, Gisborne!", Robin said bitterly.

"Yes, I am."

Two hours later, Robin sent Guy a message. It landed inches away from his neck in the yard at Locksley, where Guy had been standing with a few of his men. The message contained the location of the Butcher's hideout.

"Shepard …", he said quickly holding the note in his hands, the first glimmer of hope evident on his face. "Gather the men. We leave for the woods."

Before he could reach his horse, William stopped him. "My lord, if we find the lady …". Guy's savage look made him think better of his words: "_When_ we find the lady, she will be in no condition for the men to see her.".

His heart skipped a beat upon hearing that. All he had thought about until now was to find her alive. He had given no thought as to what condition she would be in. He nodded: "You are right. We go alone."

With that Guy jumped on his horse and left towards Sherwood, in search of the Butcher.

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remember reviews equal love! 


	31. Chapter 30: A wreck

ok, chapter 30 ... by far the hardest to write. I even cried which is sort of sad considering it's my own story! Anyway, I'm not going to say enjoy because it's a very grim, dark, sad chapter ...

the chapter is rated as an **M** because of language, violence and explicit adult content ...Be advised!

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Chapter 30 – A wreck 

As they advanced through the deep forest, they could see the house in front of them. It was more of a shack really … Just dried earth for walls and a roof made from branches and hey, glued together using the same damped dirt … It felt as if it would collapse over the cracked walls at any moment. There were two windows on the wall facing their way …or to be precise, two holes covered by three moldy wooden planks. It was a place barley fit to keep your animals in good condition.

But Guy was not thinking about that. Actually, he wasn't thinking about anything at all. His heart was thumping in his ear drums so loudly that all coherent thought had been drained right out of him. The forest was submersed in an irry silence, obstructed only by the sudden flicker of a bird or the soft, chilling blow of the wind. The air was crisp and quietly frosted. The smell of upcoming snow could be inhaled with the ease of a few deep breaths.

They made their way quietly and rigidly, careful not to make a sound. Guy was still frozen and still as he had been for the entire day. He kept his muscles constricted and agitated. This was not the time to relax.

It was a loud, painful scream that finally awakened him, making him flinch and jump back. The sound alarmed him and made him quicken his step, not carrying if he made noise anymore, but it did not pain him … for it was the voice of a man that had produced the roughed, animalic sound. For a few moments there was silence and then he heard a loud thud … As if someone had picked up something and thrown it to the floor. It fell bluntly and heavy but there was no protest.

"Say it!", the man screamed enraged, his voice heavy and grunted, and the sound of a hand making contact with another flesh was heard… The flesh did not respond. "Say it, damn you!". Dragging and hard breaths fallowed, as random objects were slammed against the walls.

Guy was now so close that he could easily look through the window of the shack yet he did not. He headed straight for the door. He turned towards Shepard for a mere moment and spoke through his teeth, his eyes cold blue steel: "He is mine!". With that he opened the door slowly and walked in.

All he could see at first was just the back of a man. He was very tall and large … Heavy arms and wide back, hair as dark as a crow. He held her beneath him, keeping her legs apart with his hands, his entire body falling hard pressed against her own.

"Are you going to say it?", the Butcher asked. There was no answer but he leaned over, bringing his ear closer to her mouth, so Guy had to conclude she had agreed to whatever it was he wanted.

He briefly saw her head rise, slowly. All he could see was a mass of mangled hair but he knew instantly it was her. She arched her back a little, and brought her mouth next to his ear.

The next thing he saw was the Butcher jumping up and screaming out in pain holding the left side of his head. There was blood pouring from behind his hand and when he lowered it, Guy could not help but grin. She had bitten half his ear off.

From behind the Butcher he saw her dragging her feet and then spit the piece right in his face. "Bitch!", the man shouted and came at her.

Guy expected her to jump up at this point and start running. He knew better then anyone how fast she was able to react when provoked yet she did not. Soon he realized she could not. So she crawled … on her hands and knees trying to get away from him. Panting and grinding her nails in the hard ground below, half her undershift torn apart, her hair mangled and dirty. She grunted when he finally grabbed her leg and started dragging her back. It was a fierce, wild sound.

"Come here!", the man ordered pulling her. She looked back at him and shoved her leg into his stomach. She was aiming for the head but missed. "Witch!", the Butcher barked and slapped her over the face with all his might, managing to extract a soft whimper.

It was at this particular moment that Guy realized that he was standing in the doorway like an idiot while his wife was fighting for her life. He also noticed the Butcher holding a small knife. "Bastard!", he roared and ran towards the Butcher, throwing away his sword in the process. He knew it was a foolish thing to do but it could not be helped. He needed his hands free.

Before the Butcher could react to the sound coming from behind him, Guy had already grabbed him by the shoulders and pulled him off Josephine. The moment she was released, she crawled into a corner and coiled up holding her legs to her chest, rocking back and forth and humming to herself.

Guy grabbed hold of the Butcher and threw him against the wall. The man was even taller then Guy and heavy as a logg. It took all Guy's strength to push him. Still this was not the day to cross Guy of Gisborne. He punched the Butcher first in his stomach making him bend over and then brought his knee up to hit him the face. By the sound it produced, Guy concluded that at least his jaw was now broken. He pulled him up again and started striking him mindlessly, hands and legs over and over again until the Butcher finally managed to push him away.

He grabbed hold of Guy's neck and attempted to lift him off the ground. "The man must be mad!", Guy thought, as breathing became hard all of sudden. There was a look in his eye that confirmed it. "You are not taking her from me!", he bellowed. Realizing that he could not lift the rather large man in front of him, the Butcher resolved on another action. He punched Guy in the face as hard as he could throwing him a good ten feet and drawing blood from his lip.

The punch had been as hard as steel. It had been a while since Guy had felt such a hit, dating back to his days as a mercenary. He did not fall but it seriously unbalanced him.

Enough for the Butcher to grab hold of him and punch him in the stomach. As Guy tried to push him away, he did not notice the Butcher bringing up his dagger. By the time he saw the dagger coming at him, Guy was not able to avoid it all together. All he could do was shift his position to the right and escape a serious wound. It still hurt like bloody hell, though!

He had to release the Butcher's collar for a few seconds as he bend over, trying to catch his breath. He thought the man was going to come straight at him and some part of him doubted he could take him at full rage, but he didn't, He remained still and started laughing: "You can't kill me, Gisborne! I'm immortal!".

"Really?", Guy asked, feeling a strange, cold calmness take hold of him. "Let us find out then!". He looked up at the man for a moment with cold, wild eyes, as the desire for blood slowly creped over him.

The Butcher whimpered. He remembered why he feared Gisborne so much in the first place. It was because part of him believed that this man was just like him.

Guy grabbed hold of the Butcher once more and this time managed to push away all of his protests. Finally he threw him against the pillar that was placed in the middle of the shack, no doubt put there in order to sustain the roof. The man fell on the ground and Guy jumped over him where he continued to punch him until he could not feel his hands anymore.

How much time had passed since he was standing over the Butcher, he could not tell but he suddenly stopped and looked at his face. Aside from the fresh wounds he had given him, the Butcher had others as well, older ones. Deep scratches, bite marks, even imprints of some sort of chain could be seen on his face and neck. Those hadn't healed yet so he realized it must have been his wife.

He knew in that moment he could not kill the Butcher. This man had kept his wife here for four days, torturing her, humiliating her. Death was too simple and it would not be enough for him to stop feeling so bloody angry. So he stood up pulling the Butcher's half conscious body after him. He dragged him to the door and opened it half ways. "Shepard!", he called out and waited for the man to come to him.

Shepard had been waited for Gisborne to call him for some time now. He had already pulled his sword out and came towards the door quickly. The sight of the man, standing at Gisborne's feet as some kind of claimed animal shook him to his core.

"Take him to the prison and keep him in the lower dungeons until I arrive. I don't want anyone touching him but me.". With that he shoved the man in the ribs making him instinctively crawl through the door. Just as soon as the Butcher was out Guy closed the door behind him. Not even Shepard was allowed to see his wife in this state.

For a moment he could not make out where she was. The shack was silent …as silent as a grave. No candles in sight, the only light coming from the three windows, through the moldy wooden planks. It looked like a prison of sorts. "An execution chamber.", Guy thought bitterly. He shivered at the thought of how many women had found their end between the walls of this tomb. But his wife had not. She was alive. And finally he saw her, crawled up in a corner, her back to him, banging her head slowly against the wall.

Her dress had been ripped from her body long ago and her undershift was torn. He noticed some cuts had been made into it but there were no signs of blood and he thanked who ever was up there for it. The material had been converted to nothing, revealing more then it was hiding, yet she held on to it fiercely, her hands wrapped around herself tightly.

He came to stand in front of her but she did not turn. Her feet were bare and dirty , her hair tangled up into a mess of dirt, parts of it considerably shorter then others. "The bastard cut her hair.", he though at he stood motionless in front of her. To see her like this … she who had always taken such care of her looks … she who was the most glorious of women … it chocked him.

She kept staring into her lap, babbling nonsense to herself and pushing a chain away from her, with her leg. He looked at it for a while. It was rusty and old, with a shackle at the end. For a moment he could not tell what it was for. It was too large to be meant for holding the hands. Turning his eyes to her and getting a first sight of her bruised neck, he knew what it had been for. He felt sick. All he wanted to do was crawl into a corner of his own and vomit as he had done the night the Butcher had taken her.

Instead he dropped on his knees and looked at her. He grabbed the chain with a hand and threw it away from her, placing his hand on her leg and making it stop from moving. He then leaned over and brought his hand between her head and the wall, her head now banging against his hand. "Stop that …", he told her and so she did.

He brought his other hand to push the hair way from her neck and cheek and turned her face towards him. He wanted to tell her how proud he was of her for staying alive. He wanted to tell her how much he loved her and that he was sorry … so sorry that he would spend the rest of his life worshiping her. But as he looked into her face he could not help but flinch when he realized just what price she had paid for standing up to the Butcher. He only prayed she had not noticed. She kept looking through him, as if she had drifted away to some distant place so he figured she did not understand.

He could not help but flinch, because while all the other women the Butcher had abducted, who had been left with no mark whatsoever, his wife had her face filled with punch marks, scratches, bruises and blood. Her lips were bleeding in at least three places, swollen and purple-blue, almost half her face was tumefied. She had been hit so many times that her left eye was so swollen she could not longer keep it open. Blood was dripping from her nose and the bruises fallowed a steady trail from her face down to her neck and shoulders and long way down over her entire body. He could not see all of them, of course, but he knew they were there.

He kept caressing her face and her hair, not even noticing that tears had started to form at the corners of his eyes. He wanted to tell her all will be well. She would be beautiful again for the bruises while painful and ugly were going to heal completely, but he could not. All he could do was stare at her as she looked through him with dead eyes. He did not even know if she would understand him … He wanted to hold her to his chest but judging from her frail condition he was afraid she would break.

Finally it was Josephine who spoke … always the stronger of the two, she brought her eyes back to him and raised her head to look into his eyes. She opened her mouth to speak but no words came out. She forced herself, breathing harder until she spoke in a low, shaking whisper: "C … C… Cold …".

"Of course!", he said all of a sudden, angry with himself for not having realized that earlier. He took off his long, leather coat and wrapped it around her as gently as he could. "All will be well …", he said grabbing her face softly. He stood closer to her and attempted lifting her up. She gave out a loud scream of pain that scared him and he lowered her down again. He didn't realize what he had touched to have hurt her like that so he lifted the coat to look over her body until he reached her leg and a large blood stain …He attempted pulling the hem up but the material had stuck to the wounded flesh.

Guy finally took out his dagger and cut her shift down to remove it from the wound. It was a long, deep knife cut. It had been left untreated and it was now infected. He sighed quickly, not wanting to waste time, wrapped the coat around her tightly and lifted her once more, this time trying to keep away from the wound.

She did not protest and rested her head on his chest.

By the time they arrived at Locksley, she was asleep. She had flinched countless times in his arms and her breathing was quick and heavy, as if she was running. "All will be well", he kept telling her. "We'll be home soon."

He made his way through the back of the house and sneaked in, with her in his arms making sure no one saw them. He made his way up the stairs quickly and then to his room, placing her on the bed. The first thing he did after that was head towards the servants quarters and knock on Walaa''s door.

The woman answered grumpily, since she had slowly cursed Guy ever since Josephine had gone missing.

"Come with me.", he told her.

When Guy opened the door to his chamber and let the woman in, Walaa' froze for a moment. She started shaking like a leaf at the sight of her mistress, as tears started falling out. Then she ran quickly towards the bed, dropping on her knees and grabbing Josephine's hand into her own. "What he do to you? What he do?", she screamed again and again, kissing Josephine's hand. "Walaa' take care of you. No worry! Walaa' take care of you!".

Guy did not have the strength to tell the woman to stop her wailing, so he left his wife and her servant and went in search of a doctor.

-oOo-

Finding a doctor had not been easy. He knew he could not go to the Sheriff's physician, because while he was the best in Nottingham, he also had the biggest mouth one could find on this God given earth, so he choose to seek out the man who usually treated his soldiers. After all he was the one with more experience when it came to wounds of any kind.

He had given the man a extremely large amount of money to which he had replied: "You are most generous, my lord!"

"Yes, I am.", Guy agreed. Then grabbing hold of the man's shoulders he brought him closer and told him: "But just as easily as giving you this money, I can kill you. I will come to your house and kill your entire family in their sleep if you do not keep quiet about what you are going to see.". The man swallowed although there was nothing to swallow at the moment and nodded.

As he came into the room, he could not help but widen his eyes in horror at the state of the woman placed upon the bed. While Guy had been away, Walaa' had changed Josephine in a clean nightshift and tied a red scarf on her head to keep her chopped hair from showing. Yet the bruising on her face horrified the doctor. He had seen Lady Gisborne in Nottingham a few times, enough to stand back in awe of her beauty and now to see her like this had truly saddened him. He resolved then and there that it had been Gisborne to bring his wife to this state. Of course, now, the devil would want to keep it hidden away.

He placed his working bag on the bed and after checking on the wound the first things he pulled out were the restraints.

At the sight of the white, cloth binds Guy jumped up: "No! No binds!", he screamed making Walaa' flinch. She had been sitting on a chair, close to the bed ever since the doctor had arrived.

"But my lord, the wound is deep. I will have to use my needle. The pain…."

"No binds! I will not have her tied like some kind of animal.". Guy gave the matter no more thought as he dragged a chair as close as he could to the bed and sited himself on it.

He turned her head towards him and caressed her face, holding her hand into his own tightly. "All will be well …".

All through the process of cleaning the wound and sawing, she made no sound, just stared into Guy's eyes, as he comforted her and whispered nonsense. She did not even flinch once! … his brave warrior.

Once the doctor was done, Guy told Walaa' to see him off. The woman left unwillingly, mumbling curses in her birth tongue. Guy knew what it meant. It had been the first thing he had learned in the Holy Land but he let the matter lay.

He stood by the bed in this manner for a long time. He caressed her face and held her hand and felt himself relax at the thought that she was once again with him. She did not speak or move as she kept staring into the ceiling and flinching now and again, but it did not matter to him. She was alive. It was the first time God had shown him any leniency but He had chosen his moment well.

"Bring me a mirror.", she said all of a sudden without looking at him.

"Rest now … There will be time for that …", he spoke softly, running his hand on her arm.

She pushed his hand away and pulled her own out. "Bring me a mirror!", she ordered once more, closing her jaw tightly and keeping her arms firmly around herself.

"Not now …", he said this time more decidedly.

"Bring me a bloody mirror now!", she screamed pushing her elbows into the mattress and getting up. "Did you not hear me? Now!".

He jumped up and put his arms around her pushing her down. "Calm yourself …".

"Bring me …", she continued struggling against his chest, trying to push him away with her hands held as fists.

"I will bring it only if you sit still.", he finally said managing to lay her down onto the bed once more.

She seemed calmer as he headed for her dressing table and brought the mirror, a nod forming in his stomach as he handed it to her.

She picked it up with trembling hands and brought it to her face. All the candles in the room had been litted in order for the doctor to see what he was doing, so she could see her reflection perfectly. And what was starring back was not the image she was accustomed to.

All her life she had been told she was beautiful. At first it had been a reason for punishment, then, later on, a reason for betrayal, then one for commerce and then, finally, it was the reason why she had been loved. Yet she felt that this disfigured, grotesque face fitted her much better. "Ah!", she said, her voice tired and defeated. "Well, isn't that a pretty girl? The prettiest girl in all the world …", she managed to say before tears finally won over her and she choked up.

"It will heal!", Guy said leaning towards her, putting his hands on her shoulders, trying to look into her eyes. He saw how she looked in that mirror. As if that image was real. As if it was the truth, but it was not. It wasn't going to last.

"That is what I've been telling myself all this time … but it never does. It never does". She shook her head violently at that.

He did not know what she was talking about. "Josephine, it will! It will heal and you'll be good as new …".

"Get out!", she said all of a sudden, looking into his eyes with hatred and anger.

He stood for a moment in shock at her spiteful words and the way she was looking at him.

"Get out! What else do you want? You have enjoyed the spectacle long enough…".

"What do you mean?", he asked, as confusion ran through him. He clinged to her body, trying to bring her closer to him but her rigid features would not allow it.

Finally she pushed him away and stood up. "Go to her! That is what you want! Go to you precious, pure maiden!".

"You know full well I do not want her. Do not do this. I want to be with you …", he said as he stood up from the bed, his body frozen all of a sudden.

"I wanted to be that for you …", she continued, paying no attention to his words. "I wanted to be a good wife, a lady … the kind of woman you could be proud of in public … but now you've ruined that. There is nothing for you to do with me now."

"I want you!", he screamed getting closer to her again, grabbing hold of her shoulders and shaking her, completely unaware that he was harming her. "I do not want Marian or any other … I just want you!"

"Oh! You want me, Lord Gisborne?", she asked keeping her cool rage and pushing his arms away. "You want this?", she asked before putting her hands on her chest and ripping apart her nightshift, revealing herself to him, bruises and bite marks all over her body. "Is this what you want?", she yelled as he pulled away. She came closer to him so he would have no where to run.

He wondered where she managed to muster up the energy to stand on her knees on the bed and yell at him so, when only hours before she could barley speak. He tried looking away from her exposed body. If it had been any other situation, he would have gladly kissed each and every one of those bruises but this was a form of punishment and he could not bare it. He had hoped she did not blame him for what had happened as much as he blamed himself.

"Don't you dare look away! You look at me!" … and so he did. He tried to maintain her cold, angry gaze as he felt himself crumble to the floor. There was no escaping this.

"Do you want to know what he did to me?", she continued. "Do you want to know how he pushed me on my knees and shoved his manhood in my mouth?", she screamed as he flinched. "He did! Over and over again, until I couldn't feel my mouth anymore! And I did nothing …I did nothing because I was too scared he would kill me! And then he put the shackle around my neck and did it again! … and I couldn't breathe … ". Then without thinking, she reached out for him and pulled him by the collar. He did not resist and bent over closer to her, as tears started falling from his eyes. "Now look at me, Lord Gisborne and tell me you want to kiss this mouth …", she said softly this time.

He brought both his hands up and placed them on her face. He tilted his head and reached for her lips with his own. It was a soft, soothing kiss. He needed to feel her against him more then anything but he knew that anything except this light touch would hurt her. He kissed her lips over and over again, licking at the three cuts that had now started to bleed again because of her screaming and was surprised when he felt her mouth open. He deepened the kiss a little as he put one of his hands on the small of her back and pulled her closer to him.

Then out of nowhere her hands pushed him away again, this time so hard that he almost lost balance and fell to the ground. "Get out!", she said in a cold voice.

"No!", he said. "I am not leaving you again."

"Get out! Get out!", she shouted, throwing a pillow at him. "Get out!".

He reached out to try and control her body but this only made her scream harder. She started struggling in his arms, trying to pull away with her hands and legs and he soon became afraid she would break her stitches.

Finally the loud sounds made Walaa' walk into the room and come towards the bed. "There, there, mistress!", she said grabbing hold of Josephine. "Walaa' take good care of you!".

"Tell him to leave!", she yelled towards Walaa', so completely disheveled that she forgot Walaa' had no authority to tell Guy to do anything. "He won't leave! I want him to leave!", she cried out, sighing and breathing hard.

Guy released her but from the edge of the bed kept starring at her. "Please, master!", he heard Walaa' plead.

After a while, Walaa' seemed to have calmed down Josephine a little and she now kept her head buried into Walaa's lap and cried softly. "Why won't you go? Just go away!".

Guy finally gave up and turned around, heading for the door. He stepped into the corridor and closed it behind him. "There, there … he go …", he heard Walaa' say. He sat for a few minutes not knowing where to go. He had been thrown out of his chamber and the dinning hall was too far way. He was in desperate need of sleep and yet he could not tear himself from that door.

So, in the end, Guy of Gisborne sited himself on the floor, in front of the chamber that contained the only thing of importance to him.

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ok, so don't freak out! at least I didn't kill her (not that I would ever consider actually killing my sweet, beautiful Josephine, especially considering that there is a certain reviewer out there that would get her twin blades out and chase me around for a block if I did that!). Sorry if there were things that shocked as far as language goes but I could not help saying things as they were. Hiding behind the PCs coach I think would have hurt my story ... remember reviews equal love! 


	32. Chapter 31: Hurt

ok, chapter 31 ... a day later then usual but it was the 8th of March and I have a mother and two grandmothers so you can understand my problem. Anyway, here it is and hope you like it. These people have a crazy way of dealing with their problems but as long as it works, that's what counts. Right?

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Chapter 31 – Hurt

The house was silent. It had been silent for days now. Just the wind blew quietly through the corridor, as he sat on the floor in front of the door. He had sent most of the serfs away and told the ones that had remained, mainly Thornton and two kitchen maids to keep away from the second level of the house. He had told everyone that his wife had had a accident in Nottingham and he intended to keep the matter that way. The doctor had not been able to keep his mouth shut, just as Guy had predicted but the conclusion upon which the man had arrived was so far from reality that Guy could not help but be thankful for it. The man had whispered back and forth that it had been Guy who had beaten his wife within an inch of her life. The whole of Nottingham was now watching him with guarded, shocked eyes. Just another act of violence that would fit him so well. It pained him that people could think him capable of something so horrific. That they did not know, or cared to believe just how much he loved his wife. But what stung the most was that she did not believe it either.

His eyes were red and now and again he rubbed them to calm the smarting pain. In fact, everything about his body hurt these days …from the top of his head to the tip of his toes. It was his back that was bothering him the most today. Finally he pushed his legs up against the door and dropped his upper body so that the pressure on his back would decrease. He folded his arms and closed his eyes, attempting to sleep, but the blasted cold would not allow it. Some nights Walaa' would take pity on him and bring him a blanket. She had not left the room today, so he concluded that Josephine had not gone to sleep yet. The idea of a warm, soft bed sounded pretty good to Guy at that very moment, but he could not leave … not after what she had attempted a week ago.

It had happened on the same day he had brought her back. After he had left the room and her crying had subsided, the silence took hold of him, as he sat on the floor for what could have been hours. After a while, he began feeling a dull pain but he could not place the exact reason for it. Then he remembered … the wound the Butcher had given him … Aside from the sore ribs, there was also a cut … one that he had neglected and had forgotten about all day long. He finally pealed himself off the floor and headed for the bathing area down the hall. He had a cabinet filled with all sorts of balms and ointments there. He raised his undershirt in order to see what damage the Butcher had produced. The wound was rather large but not very deep.

The first thing he took out of the cabinet was a vinegar bottle and poured a large amount over the wound. He could not help a hissing cry through his teeth as the liquid invaded the injury, working on the exposed flesh like fire.

And that was when he heard it. Someone was calling out for him and it was a loud, terrifying sound. "Master! Master!". He threw the bottle on the ground and ran down the corridor to his bedchamber. He pushed the door open and came face to face with a sight he never thought he would see.

Walaa' was trying to hold down his wife as she struggled to get free, kicking and slapping her servant as hard as she could. She screamed to be released and finally Walaa' could fight no more. She let go of Josephine and brought her legs up to stop the throbbing pain in her stomach. She sat pleading her mistress: "Please! No! … No …".

Josephine tried to get up but found she could not. She collapsed to the floor, feeling dizzy. She was holding a knife in one hand and the left side of her undershift was covered in blood. At first Guy thought that she must have torn her stitches but as his eyes moved around her, he found the real culprit. Her left arm was filled with fresh blood, pouring out of her wrist. "What have you done?", he cried out as a sudden sense of fear overwhelmed him.

He ran to her and grabbed her from behind, pushing the knife out of her hand. His left hand came over her wrist and squeezed it as hard as he could to try and stop the bleeding. He wrapped his other warm around her to try and stop her from moving. Although she was weak, she struggled like a caged animal. "Let go of me!", she hissed dangerously.

"Sit still.", he ordered. "Woman!", he yelled at Walaa'. "Don't sit there. Bring some cloths. Do something!". He had no idea what to tell her but she seemed to understand. She got up quickly and ran out of the room.

"Let me go!", she screamed trying to break away. He was too strong and terrified to let that happen and his grip on her only strengthened. "I mean nothing to you! Why don't you just let me be? I don't need you or your pity. I don't need anyone."

"Shhhh!", he whispered in her ear, kissing her neck in an effort to sooth her. All he got in return was: "You're the devil!" and her free hand creped around him as she plunged her fingers exactly into his wound, causing havoc where even the Butcher had taken pity. It seemed to rip him apart and he could not help but cry out in pain. He had forgotten who he was dealing with. He grabbed her hand and pushed it into submission, bringing one of his legs and wrapping it around her to try and prevent her ripping the stitches. He pushed her next to the clothing chest. "Sit still or I swear I will tie you to the bed."

Her struggling ceased slightly, in part because of his threat and in part because exhaustion kicked in. "You're just like the Butcher!", she sighed. "Two of a kind."

Her bloody was slowly running down his arm and he began to panic. He had no time to dwell on what she had said, even if he felt a nod in his stomach at the thought. He griped and pulled her closer to him as she again started to struggle against his touch. He rested his body at the foot of the bed, and kept her firmly settled in his lap. "Walaa'!", he yelled. "Where is this woman? Walaa'!". He did not realize it but his voice had become desperate. Desperate at the thought of losing her, of having her bleed to death in his arms. He felt as if centuries had passed until the servant finally came into the room, although it had been only a few minutes.

She had brought cloths and a sleeping drought. "There, there, mistress … you scare me!", she said warmly. "Drink this!". Her voice was firm at the request and she sat down in front of Josephine, leaning in with the bottle.

"Take that away from me, you witch!", Josephine spat, turning her head away. "And don't you ever talk to me like that! Who is the servant here: you or me?".

"Mistress, please!", Walaa' tried again, grabbing Josephine's chin. "It do you good.". Josephine pulled her head away and spat in Walaa's face.

"Enough!", Guy ordered. "Drink the bloody drought, Josephine!". He brought her head back and held it in place. Walaa tried to give her the drink but Josephine's mouth remained tightly shut as she looked at her with hateful eyes. "Open you mouth!", Guy said. "Open it, damn you!". He jolted her and brought the bottle to her lips but nothing would do. He finally grabbed her nose between his fingers until she was forced to open her mouth. Walaa' poured a generous amount of the liquid into her open mouth and Guy kept her jaw tightly closed until she finally swallowed it between muffled curses. Finally he released her and through coughs, she yelled: "You bastard!".

The restlessness finally left her body, as she felt herself drift away. Her limbs grew heavy and she fell back into his arms where he cradled her, rocking her back and forth. She did not fall asleep for sometime. She was still awake as Walaa' finally began covering her wound with the tightly sealed cloth and conscious enough to feel Guy gasping when he finally saw the wound she had given herself.

It was a long, deep cut and for the first time, the thought creped into Guy: "What if she will never be well again?". "Has she tried this before?", he asked Walaa' and saw the woman shaking her head. "Never.".

When she was asleep and he had carried her back to the bed, he left the room. He was afraid she would wake and be distressed by him being there. He remembered how she had been earlier that day so he dragged his feet out of the room, and down the stairs, towards the Dinning Hall.

He sat there, in front of the fire for a long time. He thought of many things, common, day to day things: the next crop, the weather …but all through that her screams came back at him, again and again, making him sink lower and lower. He remembered how she had almost begged for his love in this very room and what he had done: thrown away the only thing he had ever given out of sheer love. He remembered her face when he had asked her to please Savoy, as if he had sold her as you would a horse. And finally the look of fear when he had left her alone in that cart out of spite came crushing over him. She was everywhere and when a piece of fiery wood jumped out from the fire, without thinking he leaned down and grabbed it in his palm, squeezing it hard, feeling the unbearable pain. He moaned out in pain and that seemed to silence her for a moment or two.

But she came back and his anger grew, so he did the only thing he knew how. He went to Nottingham and spent a few hours in the company of the only man he cared to be with at the moment … the Butcher.

It became a ritual of his, one which he would repeat for a long time to come. Every time his wife cried, every time she was scared or tormented he would torture the Butcher for it. But on that first night, what had brought him there was curiosity. He remembered how the Butcher had barked at her, how he had ordered her to say whatever it was he wanted to hear and how, in spite of everything, she had refused. He wanted to see just how long it would take him to make the Butcher say what he wanted to hear … It took him exactly one hour.

-oOo-

It was morning now … day eight. She had counted them all as never before. It had taken so much for her to get through the other seven that she wasn't sure her lungs would take her though another. Breathing was so damn hard, it just made her want to scream. She glanced down at her wrist, still wrapped up in that bloody itchy cloth. Yet another scar …

She remembered that night through a thick layer of smoke. How easy it had been to take the knife out of Guy's chest, how smoothly it had gone through the skin. Then all hell broke loose and she just remembered being angry and kicking people left and right. The one thing that had clung to her brain like a leech was Guy holding her in his arms. Long after her wrist was bandaged and she had taken the drought, he held her, rocking her back and forth, kissing her head and whispering: "Stay with me, Josie! Stay with me! Do not leave me!". She remembered feeling a moist sensation where his face came in contact with her skin and his thick stubble across her shoulder. That and an immense sense of comfort …She had never felt loved as she did in that moment … Someone cared enough for her to beg her not to leave.

She wanted to feel that again. She wanted him to comfort her again, but she did not know how to ask for it and he had not entered the room in all the time she had been stuck to that bed. She wanted him to love her and for her to see it on his face. And she wanted to hurt him ... hurt him so much to make him howl … because all of this was his fault, because she needed to see it and because he loved her … So she stopped eating. She had not eaten anything since he had brought her back knowing that sooner or later that would bring him in the room. This she did without actually realizing it, of course. The only thing she allowed herself to admit was that she was not hungry. As for Guy, her mind told her she wanted him away but her body urged to be comforted once more.

Walaa' walked in holding a trey with a cup of broth on it. She tried to put on a brave face but she already knew she was in for a fight just by looking at her mistress's face. "You best be taking that away. I don't want it.", Josephine warned pointing her finger at Walaa', before dropping on her pillow and pulling the covers over her head.

"You eat!", Walaa' said decidedly. "Very good … made myself.". She placed the trey over the cover and attempted pulling it down, when Josephine's arm came flying out, first over Walaa's face and then over the trey, throwing it to the ground and spilling the entire content on the floor.

"Why you do that?", Walaa' whined holding her cheek. There was no response as the head disappeared once more between the covers. She sighed and moved towards the door, in search of something to clean the mess with. She was really beginning to worry. Josephine was getting paler everyday and her eyes looked dead. Most of the time she laid there speechless, staring into the void and flinching. There were no more screams or tears, just apathy as if she was preparing herself to die.

The thought scared Walaa' so much that she decided to talk to Guy, no matter how much she disliked it. She found him where he always was, on the floor in front of the room. His head was dropped in his chest and his arms folded.

Walaa' had agreed with herself a long time ago that men were useless, violent animals, after an event not much different from that of her mistress. But she knew that, unlike her, Josephine could not live without men, particularly this man. And the sight of him, so helpless and half sick with worry managed to soften a little even Walaa's weary heart.

He raised his head quickly when he sensed Walaa' and looked into her face with worried expectance. "Did she eat?".

Walaa' shook her head. "She throw away.", Walaa' said disappointed.

Guy sighed in bitter resignation and Walaa' took this as her moment to talk to him. She approached him slowly and dropped down to his level. "Master … you try.", she told him hopefully. "She listen to you."

"No!", he said shaking his head decidedly. "She can't stand the sight of me. And I will not distress her further.". Then he raised his eyes to stare into the woman's face and in a rare moment of complete honesty he asked her: "She hates me, doesn't she?".

"No. She not hate you. She not so angry to you if hate you.".

After a while, Guy agreed to try. He wanted her to eat and he knew that, unlike Edward, Josephine would starve herself into the ground if she set her mind to it. And he wanted to see her. It had been a week and he needed to at least look at her, see if she was healing, see if there was even the trace of the woman he loved in there.

So he entered the room with long strides, holding a cup of fresh broth. "Josephine …", he said standing at the foot of her bed, feeling awkward.

There took a while for the response to come, muffled and cold, from under the layers of the covers: "Get out. I don't want you here."

"You have to eat."

"Why do you care? If it was up to you I'd be dead now. You must be disappointed."

"You can't believe that to be true.", he said, the pain evident in his voice. "I would rather rip the heart right out of my chest, than put ground over your body. You must believe that.". His voice was warm and he came to the edge of the bed and sat down touching the swell of her hip through the covers.

"Go to hell."

"Enough of this!", he said trying to keep his temper in check. "Eat!".

"I don't want to eat!", she screamed back pulling the covers down. "I want you to go away!".

"If you eat this I will leave. Not a moment sooner."

"You promise?"

"Yes.", he answered coldly handing her the cup.

She reached out for it, trying to look away from him. No matter what, she disliked having him see her like this. She checked her wounds everyday and she was still as hideous as she had been a week ago. She grabbed the cup but as soon as she did and tried to bring it up to her mouth it started shaking between her frail hands almost spilling the content over the linen.

His hands quickly caught it and he brought himself closer to her, as her head dropped against the head of the bed. She was so weak these days, especially in the afternoons. He brought the cup up to her lips and she began drinking, feeling the warm liquid fill up her stomach and the satisfying sensation it brought, even if she hated to admit it.

Once she had taken a few sips, she had to lean back and catch her breath. He brought a napkin up and passed it over her lips and that was when she broke down. She stared crying. She looked at herself and saw a cripple, a person unable to wipe her own mouth. She remembered that even when she had been at the abbey, as a little girl, she had never needed assistance. There were children that managed to spill the meager breakfast they would receive all over themselves and the monks would beat them for it, telling them that they were wasting God's gifts. She had never done that … Until now. This was what he had reduced her to.

"Don't cry, Josephine. Please, don't cry.". His large, warm hand caressed her face several times, wiping the tears away, until she pulled her head away violently.

He pretended not to notice and brought the cup up to her lips once more. "You are healing very well.", he said. "Soon it will all be gone.". Actually he had thought her wounds should have healed more then they had. She was also so thin! He was sure that if she began eating, soon enough she would be strong and beautiful again. But at least there was a glimpse of those amazing brown eyes of hers. He had missed them.

She looked at him for a while, as she allowed him to feed her. He wanted everything to go back to what it had been. Once the scars would be gone, for gone they would be, he would pretended nothing had ever happened. But it had. She would never be the same again. She would have to, sooner or later, start building a new woman to take the place of the one that had been shattered. She would never be Josephine again. It was just too painful. A sudden cold rage overpowered her and she thought if perhaps she should kill him. She had a knife hidden under her pillow. She had taken it out of Guy's chest a few nights ago when the ever vigilant Walaa' had been asleep and she had kept it there … just in case … just in case the Butcher came for her, or Robert or if she just found it all too hard once more.

She could take it out and with just a move of her wrist, his throat would be cut. She imagined his face once she would have done it, as she would stand in front of him holding the knife … the look of pain and surprise would be enough to heal some parts of her. She went as far as dropping one of her hands into the covers and take hold of the knife. Then another image came to mind and stopped her. This one was of what would happen once everything was done … once those brilliant blue eyes would close and his body would fall to the ground, heavy and motionless … She saw herself clear as day, howling over his body, begging him to wake up, shaking him, telling him that she did not mean it … but there would be no answer, because he would be dead and death is forever.

So she chose the next best thing. "You look very good today.", she admitted bitterly withdrawing her hand from behind the pillow. "Where are you going?"

He smiled, even if he knew she did not mean it as a compliment. "Nowhere."

"Oh, come now! Don't lie. How is dear Marian? Still a maiden or have you managed to bed her at long last?"

"Marian means nothing to me. I have never touched her nor will I ever touch her. She serves a purpose. That is all."

"Everyone serves a purpose in your life, Lord Gisborne. Marian is the means of boasting in front of Robin Hood. The Sheriff is your route to position and power. And I … I was the beautiful wife you could pride yourself with in front of your nobles and occasionally sell to other rich men … But I'm afraid that your toy is broken now, my lord. She can no longer achieve her purpose."

"You are not a toy! You are my wife …". He wanted to tell her he loved her but could not. He was afraid she would mock him and that was one thing he could not allow to see mocked.

"I should have gone with him …He would have taken care of me. He promised to build me a white castle, with ivory towers and blue minarets. None of this would have happened if I had gone with him. I thought about it. I stood on the hallway for half an hour thinking of going with him and I wanted to. I wanted to so much! I imagined him holding me, making love to me.". She watched him all through her speech, as his eyes blinked quickly, how he clenched his jaw, how tightly his hands held the now empty cup and it gave her such an immense pleasure and relief. "Finally I came back because I realized you would never leave us alone. You would come for us and kill us and I couldn't let that happen to him."

He sat and listened to her, wondering just how much more she would go on. It was painful to see just how much pleasure it gave her to hurt him. "Do you want to play a game?", he finally asked, his eyes cold, putting the cup on the floor next to the bed. He began removing his coat and then stood up and put it on the chair closer to the bed.

He sat back on the bed and saw her flinch. She gathered up her legs as if to protect herself from his attack. Her eyes were large and suddenly scared at the thought of going through an act that, at the moment, repulsed her.

He pulled out a small dagger and showed it to her. "The rules are quite simple.", he said pulling his left sleeve up. "Every time you say something that hurts me, I produce a cut on my arm. This way you can have a permanent record of the pain, instead of just fleeting moments. Since you've already started … let's see: failing to protect my wife …". He ran the knife over the skin and it split open. He hissed at the pain before speaking: "my wife imagining herself with someone else …" … another cut. "My wife wanting to leave me for the second time …". "My wife protecting another man."

"I'm not your wife.", she said turning her face and meeting his gaze. He did not lower it as the knife passed through the skin, working its way up the arm with yet another cut. "You will always be my wife. No matter where you are or what man is by your side, I will always be your husband."

She looked away again and could not fail to see the blood on his arm. Five cuts …they were all there. She had always desired seeing the effect of pain. One of the many reasons why she had used that blasted needle for so long. It amazed her that he would know that. When she spoke again, she did it deliberately, to see if he would do it again. "I think I was in love with him."… Sure enough, without blinking he produced the proof but this time she felt it as if she had done it to herself. She did not want this. She wanted him to stop.

"This is ridiculous!", she announced. "Get out!" … She misjudged her words because that seemed to hurt him just as much.

He looked up at her, holding his arm on his leg, letting her see it for as long as she liked and she started crying. "Stop! Enough! …Enough. I've finished the broth and you promised you would leave if I did.".

He sighed and nodded getting up from the bed and putting the dagger back in its place. He picked up the cup from the floor, but before he left she put her hand on his shoulder. "Guy …", she said, reaching behind her pillow and pulling out her knife. "Take this with you.".

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remember: reviews equal love!!!!!!!!!!! 


	33. Chapter 32: Once upon a time

ok, chapter 32 ... hope you like it. I'm going to rate it a **M** for explicit content.

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Chapter 32 – Once upon a time

She sat in her bed listening to his footsteps as he was approaching her room. She sat still and straight in the bed, her back against the pillow, tapping her hand on the covers. She had been in a constant state of agitation since she had woken up this morning and now she grew ever more impatient. Her eyes held a steel, cold gaze of determination and her lips were tightly pressed against each other.

From time to time she reached out with her hands and touched the red veil on her head, or her cheeks, patting them … She rearranged her nightshift and starred at her finger nails and scratched her wrist cut through the thick cloth. The wound on her leg was beginning to heal and it hurt more then before.

It had been two weeks and she still felt a dull pain between her legs. She hated that the most. She could manage all the other things but this gave her no peace. Every time she moved she was reminded of that man plunging into her, breathing his putrid air over her, his rugged hands grabbing hold of her flesh. The images tormented her, made her cringe and close her eyes trying to wipe them away. It gave her a little comfort to know that in at least one respect fate had been kind to her. The Butcher had refused to give her "his gift" as he called it because she was a "disrespectful, evil woman". He said he had given it to all the others but they were good women where she was a witch. He did not understand that it was that thought, among others, which fueled her to resist him. The idea of that man leaving her with child would have killed her, she was sure of it.

She had checked her wounds ten times since this morning and every time she had reached the same conclusion: she was still hideous. The wounds had began healing but even what was being uncovered underneath, her old, perfect, porcelain features, seemed ugly to her. She was disgusting. She could not see why any man would like her anymore, especially Guy. He was such a proud man and she was damaged goods. He would not want to touch her anymore.

But she would be damned if she let the matter lay. After all, it was he who had done this to her and he would not rid himself of her so easily. He would have to please her whether he wanted to or not.

He was in no hurry to reach her door today. He needed time to prepare himself for what he would find once he went in. She was so hard so deal with these days that most of the time he just wanted to leave her be and go somewhere quiet to be alone and in peace.

He had never been a man able to tolerate the pain of others. It was his thinking that he had more then his fair share to have to think about others's as well. So when he saw her lashing out or trying to tell him how much pain she was in, his first instinct was to run the other way and forget all about it. But he never did. He felt wretched and guilty for even considering it. Instead, he tried to comfort her in any way he could … in any way she would let him. And to his great astonishment, he found he did give her comfort.

It had been years since he had silently believed himself unable to love anyone, unable to care or help another human being. It was not until he found her that he discovered he still had a heart and it was capable of more love then he had given it credit for. And it was not until he had seen her broken and hurt that he understood he was capable of kindness and tenderness.

Still, it was not easy to be around her. He loved her but she was hardly herself these days. She did not seem a complete person, if he was to be honest with himself. Every day she seemed someone else. She was either a scared little child who looked up at him with large, fearful eyes, or a head strong youth that could not be pleased by anything or anyone … And then, of course, there was the cold, raging woman out for blood who could crush anyone in her sight and that sent shivers down his back. He had come to think of her as the true Josephine … That woman was Robert's woman. She was more wheels and gears then flesh. She was the one that had left him without looking back. And she seemed to have smothered his wife.

His Josie was all of those things, of course … She was a lively child at times, or a carefree young woman. She could be calculating and revengeful when she wanted to and she had a tongue as sharp as a dagger and poisonous as a snake. But, unlike Josephine, she was capable of love. That was the woman he was desperately trying to protect … his wife.

He knocked on the door softly and waited until he heard her give him leave to enter. "Good afternoon.", he said in a low voice, holding the cup of broth in his hand. He knew full well the food was just a pretext, a way for them to be together. She was now strong enough to eat on her own and Walaa' would be more then willing to sit with her while she ate. And, yet, everyday he found himself at her door holding the hot liquid and burning in expectation to see her.

She looked well today. The wounds were healing nicely and there was finally a trace of the woman who could with just one roll of her eye sent him over the edge. She truly was the most beautiful thing he had ever seen. "How are you doing today?", he asked sitting on the chair next to the bed and handing her the broth.

"Well enough."

She seemed civil today, almost nice. Most of the time when he walked in through the door, she would attack him immediately. She would ask about Marian, or the Sheriff … anything to make him lose his temper. But today she seemed calm and serene. A flicker of hope now grew inside Guy. This woman did resemble his wife … his beautiful, charming wife.

"Come sit by me.", she said as she sipped her brew, signaling an empty space on the sheet next to her.

This was the first time she had invited him next to her and the significance of the gesture was not lost on him. He slowly did what he was told and sited himself close enough to smell her but far enough not to alarm her. He saw how uncomfortable she was with him touching her and he knew it would be like that for some time to come. He had never been a patient man but he did not dare push her. The fear of her breaking for good was too great in his mind to risk it.

They sat for a while like this, with her eating her lunch and him sited in front of her, revealing in the closeness, admiring her soft, delicate profile. She did not look at him and he did not feel the need. He was content with just looking at his wife, a little more secure in the knowledge that she would be well again.

Then, out of nowhere, her hand reached out for him. She moved it slowly across the white, smooth sheet until it reached his own hand and came over it. She caressed it slowly, running her long fingers over it with feathery touches.

Guy closed his eyes almost without even realizing it, and he began caressing her hand in return. Their fingers connected and he brought the back of his hand over the inside of her palm again and again. Neither of them looked at the other. Josephine kept staring at the window and Guy kept his eyes closed, allowing himself to feel the light, silk smoothness of her hand.

They kept up the game until Guy could bare it no longer. His fingers hardened against her hand and he brought it up to his lips where he kissed it over and over again.

She, then, quickly put down the cup and brought her other hand around his neck, pulling him to her. She kissed him with all the passion she could muster up at the moment and began rubbing herself against him.

He was so surprised by her action that he acted on pure instinct. He wanted this woman so badly that he could not think straight, not even on days when he had had his fill of her. But now it had been too long and he had feared her lost for so long that he thought he deserved to have her, even if he knew, in the back of his mind, that she was not ready. He brought her closer to him, enjoying the feel of his hand on the small of her back and devouring the mouth he had denied himself for so long.

For a moment he released her mouth in order to move his lips over her neck, lowering her night shift a little in order to expose the flesh to his hungry mouth. "Take me, Guy!", he heard her say in a harsh, commanding voice and it was this that finally brought him back and made him realize the mistake he was about to make.

"No …", he said reluctantly. He brought her nightshift back over her shoulders and moved away from her a little, to try and calm the quenching burn in his stomach.

"What?", she asked, her eyes burning with rage. "What do you mean?"

"This is not the time.", he said softly, caressing her face. "You have to heal first."

"Don't give me that!", she spat, pushing his hand away. "You don't want me, is that it? Or has Marian left you dry?"

"Enough with Marian!", he shouted, finally losing what little patience he had left. "I've had enough of that! No more! She is nothing to me and you know it!"

The manner in which he had spoken, the way he looked at her made her stop. She tried another way. "Then what is the matter? Don't you want me?", she asked getting closer to him and placing her hand in his lap.

"Of course I do.", he said pulling away from her touch.

She was faster, though, and before he knew it, her hand was now placed on his groin and she held on tightly making him gasp. "Then what is it?", she asked coldly, starring into his eyes as if she was about to capture her prey. "I remember a time in which with only a look from me, you would get tight in your breeches."

"Stop it!", he ordered in a harsh voice, pushing her hand away. "This is not you. Don't behave like a …"

"Harlot?", she asked. "But I am a harlot, my lord. You said so yourself."

"Enough! I was wrong! Don't you think I know that? You are my wife and I love you but you must stop this."

"Why? Don't you want me?", she asked again, lowering her nightshift and revealing her breasts.

"Oh, God!", Guy thought. "Round and ivory ...". He wanted to reach out and touch them and he hated himself for his weakness. He just looked away. "Pull your nightshift up!" , he ordered.

"What is it, my lord?", she asked mockingly. "Do I displease you or is it that you can no longer perform the task?".

That sent a dagger straight through him just as she had predicted. He was too proud to be able to resist such a taunt. "Excuse me?", he asked looking straight at her.

"I was wondering if my husband had turned a weakling."

"You know full well …"

"No, I don't.", she interrupted. " I would imagine any normal man would feel something at the sight of a naked woman but, apparently, I've left you cold. You are nothing but a weak excuse for a man who is unable to please his woman."

His mind told him that she was taunting him, hunting him down but he could resist it no longer. With a loud growl he threw himself over her, ripping her nightshift from her body. She gasped at his action and grasped his back.

He wanted to pull back and take his clothes off but she pulled him back over her. "No!", she shouted harshly. "Just undo your breeches."

He did so quickly panting as he began to kiss one of her breasts. He brought his body on top of hers and parted her legs. "Is this hard enough for you?", he asked.

He kissed her neck wildly, holding one of her breasts in his hand and squeezing it in his hand, enjoying the feel of it. He did not notice her soft whimpers. He thought: "To hell with patience and tenderness. I need her. I need her now!".

For a while, she enjoyed the feel of his strong body on top of hers. She liked the cold metal rubbing against her abdomen, his hands running freely over her body, his hips pressing against her own. But then her mind turned acutely aware of what was happening and the images of the Butcher on top of her came rolling around her and the pain of it reached her again. "Stop!", she said trying to push him away. He continued with what he was doing and fear overwhelmed her. She remembered he was not a man to stop once he had begun and she feared he would not care. "Stop!", she yelled. "Stop it, Guy! Stop it!", she screamed pushing him away with her fists until his grip on her lessened and she was released. She jumped from the bed and crawled into a corner of the room.

She brought her knees up and began hitting her head against the wall. "I can't, Robert! I can't …", she said for a while and then she gave out a loud wail. "Don't, Robert! Don't!". She brought her hands up as if to protect herself from something. "I'll do it!", she screamed desperately. "I'll do it! Just don't …". She could speak no more. She just kept crying and banging her head against the wall.

Guy sat on the bed for a few moments … dumbstruck … at having her run away before his thirst could be quenched, of her looking so scared and speaking of things he did not understand and most of all because she had said his name. Out of all the people, the one she seemed to fear the most was Robert. Not even the Butcher could match him, apparently. He could not understand how a small, wretched creature like Huntington could make a woman like Josephine crawl on the floor and beg but it broke his heart.

He jumped off the bed and came towards her.

"Don't!", she yelled, covering her face. "I'll lay with him. I'll do anything you want! Just don't!"

"Shhhh!", he said sitting in front of her. "We'll have none of that! You are safe now.", he said putting his hands on her face and turning her so she might face him.

She looked at him and flinched, jumping up as if she feared he would hit her.

"It all right, Josie.", he said softly. "It's me. It's Guy …"

All of a sudden, her eyes widened with fear and terror and she began crying again. "Oh, my God!", she cried out. "I'm going mad!"

"Shhh! You are not going mad.", he said pulling her to him. "You just got a little confused. That is all.". He sat on the floor and brought her in his arms, holding her legs over his lap, to try and keep her away from the cold floor, as she shuddered against his chest and cried.

"I am. I am. I always feared it would happen and now it has. I am losing my mind. "

"No, you are not.", he said more decidedly, moving his hand up and down her back to try and calm her. "And even if you were, I'd go and fetch it for you."

This made her laugh … a chocked, muffled laugh that lasted a mere moment but a laugh nonetheless. She rested her head against his chest and brought her hand up. "I wanted you so much.", she sighed. "But I can't. I can't."

He held on to her tighter as she buried her head in his chest and rocked her back and forth. "What is wrong with me?", she asked desperately looking up at him for answers.

"I don't know, Josie. I don't know. But I will fix it. I promise you I will fix it."

They sat like this for a while, until she was calm once more and then he picked her up and brought her to the bed. "The floor is cold.", he said. "You'll find the bed is much better."

She smiled wearily and let him put her down and wrap the covers around her. Then she heard him take off his boots and get inside the covers as well, picking her up in his arms again. It felt so warm and safe, she could not help sighing in relief. She would not be alone with her demons tonight.

"Try and sleep.", he told her.

"I can't sleep anymore."

"Of course you can. Just close your eyes and it will come to you", he said softly, passing his hand over her face and making her close her eyes. "And I will tell you a story."

"A story?", she asked surprised, shifting her position in his arms and wrapping her arms tightly around him.

"Yes.", he said. "My mother used to tell me this story. When I was sick or afraid, she would stay with me."

"No one's ever told me stories before.", she said yawning.

"There's a first time for everything, Josie", he answered once the pain in his stomach had ceased. He realized she had never had a mother to tell her stories or a father to hold her on his shoulders. All of her life all she had received was pain and half chances. She had had to crawl her way through life. "But no more!", he thought. She would have anything she wanted from now on. "You're going to like this story.", he whispered and felt her nod.

He told her the tale of a little boy that decides he does not need love. So, a forest fairy takes his heart away in exchange for money and power. The little boy becomes a powerful and respected man but he is alone. Everyone he tries to bring near him leaves him because he is cold and does not know how to love, until only his wife remains. She stays by his side and loves him but soon grows sick because he cannot love her back. The man stands beside his wife on her death bed and he wants to cry. He wants to cry for himself because he is alone. He wants to cry for his wife because she is too young to die and he wants to cry because he could not love her. But he can't, because he doesn't know how.

She had been asleep long before he had finished the story but he kept talking. His mother had told him that story many times and had made him promise never to become a man who does not know how to love. Now, finally, he knew he had kept his word.

He did not sleep that night. He kept watch over her, as she shifted in his arms, flinching and grabbing hold of him tighter and tighter as if to prove to herself, even through her sleep, that he was there. Now and again she called out his name and every time he answered: "I'm here, Josie. I'm here.". He watched over her sleep and held her body in his arms, as she reached out for him … just a broken bird trying to keep safe.

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	34. Chapter 33: Beloved

so, I've been hiding under a rock for some time ... been buried in work all through the week-end and I haven't visited this site in like forever!! (all right, so it's been just a week in actual time but it felt like forever). Anyway, managed to finish chapter 33. Enjoy!

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Chapter 33 – Beloved

It was early the next morning when she felt him shift around her and rise from the bed. She felt an immediate jolt to the stomach and her eyes flickered open. She turned slowly unto her back to look at him better.

He was walking very slowly as to not wake her, pulling his breeches up, one boot in hand and looking for the other, no doubt. He always had a talent for misplacing one of them. He would usually look for it and look for it every morning, even if she offered to help on more then one occasion. He would refuse stubbornly and keep bending and squinting in search of the black, stray boot. Finally he would give up and tell her to look for it in a grumpy, sullen voice. She would usually find it in less then a minute and hand it to him proudly. It had always hurt her how angry he looked when she would hand it to him. That one, simple gesture she had wanted to do as a sign of love and respect he would take as a battle lost. She wished that just for once he would smile, take her in his arms and thank her.

But she had to wonder just why he was being so secretive. It was apparent that he had no intention of telling her he was leaving or where he was going. Panic suddenly griped her. What if he wanted to leave and never come back? What if he had enough of her like this and was going away to seek some remedy and rid himself of her? Her hands suddenly started trembling at the thought, but she mustered up courage to face his decision. If he was going to abandon her, he would have to be a man and tell her to her face. If he wanted to rid himself of her, he would have to tell her so and she would leave for good. "Next to the clothing chest." she said in a groggy voice.

He straightened his position very quickly and stood still without turning, as if he was a child caught doing something bad. "Under the table." she continued. He still did not see it and took a few uncertain steps in the indicated direction. "I can see it from here!" she pointed out with her hand, losing patience.

He finally spotted it and bent over to take it. "Ah! There it was!" He finally turned to look at her, holding the two boots, each in one hand. She had pulled the bedcover up over her chin and held it tightly. The red veil had fallen during the night and her chopped hair was spread over the pillow. She was so beautiful and fragile that he could not help but smile. He approached the bed, sat down and bent over to drop a kiss on her forehead. "Thank you", he said and then began putting his boots on.

She was shocked by his reaction and encouraged to ask him what she dreaded: "Where are you going?". She spoke in a soft, shaking whisper, unable to speak properly.

He stopped what he was doing and looked back at her. His hand began caressing her face and he could not help feel tenderness at the way her big eyes had grown even bigger and were looking at him with a mixture of fear and love. "I'm going to Nottingham."

"No …" Her little voice faltered and she grabbed his hand, shaking her head slowly. "Don't …Don't …" She could barely bring herself to say it. "Don't leave me." she whispered.

"Don't be silly, Josie." he said calmly, getting closer to her and bringing his free hand over her belly. He wanted to run his other hand through her hair but she was holding on so tight it became apparent to him that he was being held captive. "I'll just be gone for a few hours. I will be back before you even miss me."

"You should not think that, my lord. I always miss you, even when you are next to me."

The declaration warranted a kiss so he brought his head down and kissed her deeply. "I'm glad to hear it, my lady. But I must go. I am in debt with someone and I dislike owing him anything."

"Who?"

"Hood." he replied with a touch of bitterness in his voice. "He helped me find you and for that I am grateful."

"Are you giving him Marian?" she asked amazed.

He smiled at her question. That was his Josie, always so smart! He nodded.

"You're letting her go?" she frowned and he could tell her brain was already working out the consequences. He knew she must want to get rid of Marian, after all he had given her every reason to want to do so but she did not seem all too pleased with the idea and he knew why.

"No. I'm giving them two hours, that is all."

She finally released his hand and dropped down on her pillow. "Ah! Well, she's such a silly goose, I doubt they'll make the best of it. They'll probably end up wasting the time talking about the weather."

He could not help but chuckle. "You're probably right. But I feel generous today."

Her eyes grew sad again. He was going to leave, even if it was just for a few hours. She hated being so dependent on him and she knew how tiresome that was to a man but she could not help it. She sighed.

"Don't, Josie. I will be home before you know it. Please, don't be sad!" He knew it was going to be hard to leave this morning, but the matter was weighing on him and he wanted to get it over with. The twelve days were upon them and he wanted to spend them all with her. In his usual bad judgment he had wanted to leave without saying a word, to avoid seeing her like this but now he knew it would have been even worse.

"It's just that every time we are close again and you leave something bad happens." she said seriously. "What if you've had enough of me? What if all of this is a lie and I shall never see you again?"

"Now whose being the silly goose?" he asked. "Do you actually think that to be possible?"

It took her several minutes to answer. "No" she finally said and turned on her side. Somehow she knew he would not leave her, that all would be just like he said but she could not help her thoughts. After all they had been married for more then six months and all they had had in all that time were stolen moments. It seemed to her that the problems did not occur when they were together but when other people meddled. First Robert, then Marian, then the Sheriff, then the Count … there was always someone and she was weary. Her mind couldn't stop itself from forming theories of what might happen on that short ride to Nottingham and it was only when she felt the bed lower and his hand wrapped around her, bringing her closer to him and molding his own body according to her own that she relaxed. His large, warm hand began caressing circles on her belly and she brought her head back to meet his lips. "You like that?", he asked in a soothing voice.

She nodded and dropped her head back on the pillow, yawning. Soon she closed her eyes, feeling warm and safe.

"I thought you might" he said, as his hand kept caressing her with soft touches. "My brother used to like that too." It had been so long since he'd talked about him but it came so easy to speak of him to her.

"Your brother?" she asked quickly, her eyes snapping open. "You never told me you had a brother."

"Stephen". He spoke the name slowly and quietly. "I used to stay with him until he fell asleep. Sometimes I think he would stay wake just so I wouldn't leave." He laughed at that. He remembered how many times he had told Stephen to go to sleep, bribe him with sweets and presents just so he would fall asleep and he could go meet Agnes.

"Where is he now?" she asked turning towards him and looking into his eyes.

"He died." Guy said slowly. "He was a very sick child and I don't think moving from the comfort of his home made it any better. Not that the Lionheart cared." Even after all this time, there was such bitterness in his voice. How could he ever be loyal to that king?

"I'm sorry you lost him." she said sadly, bringing her hand up and caressing his cheek.

"I am too. But I have you." At least that was compensation enough, he thought. He kissed her hand and smoothed out her hair. "Now sleep, Josie." he whispered next to her ear.

-oOo-

It was hours later when she woke up again. The sun was shining brightly through the pale curtains and straight onto her face and still she woke up scared. She had dreamt of the Butcher and her body was covered in sweat. She stood up, breathing hard, trying to reassure herself. She felt uneasy. She kept looking from side to side, waiting for him to jump up from some hidden corner and she felt her muscles tense up as she prepared herself to run. "Silly wench!" she told herself. "There is no one here!" Still, it was only when Walaa' came into the room that she felt herself relax.

She let her talk while looking at the window, contemplating what a beautiful day it was outside and then an idea occurred to her. "Walaa', go tell the serfs to stay away from the back of the house."

"Why?" Walaa' asked surprised and a little suspicious.

"Never you mind. Tell them and bring my sewing basket."

The mention of it made Walaa' protest. She would do no such thing, she told her.

"You will bring it right now!" Josephine shouted. "You have gotten so insolent as of late. You have forgotten who is mistress here!"

Walaa' sighed and shook her head. She went in search of the object and left Josephine alone.

She pushed the covers away and for the first time in two weeks, her shaking feet made contact with the floor. She shivered at first and felt dizzy when she finally stood up. Then she felt a sharp pain in her left leg and she remembered the wound. Still she pressed on, keeping her left foot off the ground and hoping around, balancing herself against the table and the foot of the bed until she reached her clothing chest. She opened it and searched through it, trying to find some garment that would please her. They were all horrible. She would have to buy new ones.

That simple thought stopped her in her tacks. Simple it might have been but it was a plan, a plan for the future. She had not been able to think about anything having to do with her life from now on since it happened. The very idea of it seemed absurd but here she was now making plans to see the seamstress and order dresses. And it was such a Josephine thing to think.

She had wanted to be rid of her but it seemed that the woman Guy had uncovered under all the filth the monks and Robert had placed was there and she was not going anywhere. She could no longer be anyone else. She was just her. It was a thought both terrifying and magnificent.

She smiled and picked a random dress.

"What you doing?" Walaa asked alarmed once she came into the room and saw her mistress dressed, sited at her dressing table, fixing her red veil.

"I am going out for a bit." she said and it was the kind of answer that gave way to no objections.

She stood up from the chair and hopped over to Walaa'. If the woman had not been so astonished, she would have laughed at the sight.

"Give me that." Josephine said taking the sewing basket and grabbing a blanket and some linens she had placed on the table. There was such determination in her voice that Walaa' did was she was told without objection.

"I help you." she said, walking behind Josephine and trying to take hold of her arm.

Josephine pulled her arm away. "Leave me be! I am not a cripple. Stop following me around and go back to the room!" she ordered and began to go down the stairs, jumping on her good leg.

Walaa' listened but only partially. She left Josephine on her own, but watched from the top of the stairs to make sure she was safe and only went in when she had made sure her mistress had sited herself in the garden, on the bench.

-oOo-

He stood in the door way watching her for a while before going over to her. He had been so eager to get back and be with her that he had not even stayed the whole two hours it would have taken for Hood to leave. Once he and Marian had went into the room he had in charged Shepard with the task and run down the stairs towards the stables. He had watched how Robin embraced Marian and the look of complete love in her eyes and felt nothing. A year ago the sight would have driven him mad. Now it only made him thankful that he had not married Marian. After all, he would have soon found out just what she thought of him and then the pain would have been even worse.

He could not help but think of what it might have been like to be married to Marian and then set eyes on Josephine. She would have come and married Montfitchet, no doubt. He shuddered at the thought of being sited across the table from her and know with all certainty she was his woman and yet belonged to another.

He made his way towards the bench and saw her sited on it, with a blanket over her, doing needle work on a large, white sheet.

"Can't you do what you're told for once in your life?" he asked grumpily, folding his arms and standing in front of her. "You have Walaa' worried sick."

"She can handle me." she replied without lifting her head until she could put a mark where she had finished her work. "It just sewing." she said looking up and meeting his worried gaze. "I promised you I would not do it again and I meant it."

He smiled and sited himself on the bench next to her. "I know … What is it that you're doing, anyway?"

"Well I needed an occupation so I decided to work on this" she told him, handing him a part of the material where she had embellished an already made border. "I looked through Isabelle's old materials but those are no good. She was terrible at it. And then I found these … This is your mother's work, I believe" She pointed to the border where someone had sewn the initials GoG.

"Yes" Guy nodded. "She worked so hard on them but her eye sight was not the best in those last years ..." His thumb ran over the stitching lovingly.

"I thought I'd add some color to it, if you don't mind. If it displeases you I can take out what I have done already."

"You may do as you see fit, my lady" he said , looking at her and caressing her face. "They're your sheets." He could not help but stare at the way his mother's stitching and his wife's intertwined. It pleased him. It pleased him greatly.

"She must have been a great lady." she said absently, looking at the small, perfect lines of stitching. "Her needle work was faultless. That was why I wanted to learn so desperately. So that people might think me a lady."

He frowned at that. "Do all great ladies do needle work?" he asked trying to change the subject.

"Of course!" she replied looking up at him. "Ladies, and princess, and queens … One only has to think of Eleanor of Aquitaine where needle work is concerned."

Guy squinted at the mention. "The woman betrayed her husband and led two wars against him. I must doubt your choice of example, my lady" he said mockingly "and can only pray you do not entertain such treacherous thoughts against me! After all, I am not Henry!"

Josephine smiled at his reply. "You'd manage." she told him grudgingly

He tilted his head back and laughed. "Well, if I did not, it would still be a wonderful way to go!" With that he pulled her to him and kissed her.

She shifted in his arms so that her back was rested against his chest and lifted her legs on the bench. He took the blanket and wrapped it around her even tighter. "It was because he changed her for another." she said after a while.

"What?"

"Eleanor of Aquitaine … She behaved like that because he changed her for another. Wives don't take that very kindly." …"Guy …I am your wife, am I not?"

His grip on her only tightened. "Of course you are! What made you ask such a thing?"

"It hurt when you said that I wasn't. More then anything you've ever said or done. It was like someone had plunged a knife into my heart."

He began to kiss her neck and cheek again and again. "Forgive me. I was a fool. Forgive me."

She brought her arms around his body and buried her head in his chest. "He said that I only had to say two things and he would let me be."

His heart stopped for a moment and he became rigid. Still he let her talk.

"He wanted me to beg him to stop and to tell him I was his woman. But I didn't!" she said quickly, looking up into his eyes and shaking her head. "I didn't! I kept saying _I am Lady Gisborne, I am Lady Gisborne_ … over and over again." She had started crying and now her body was shaking in his arms as he held her as tight as he could.

"I love you, Josie. Don't ever doubt that." Then a thought creped into him and he could not bare not to ask her so he lifted her head and looked at her teary face. "Did you think I had forsaken you?"

"No!" she answered quickly. "I knew you would come for me. I knew you would make him pay for what he did to me." Her arms around him tightened and she lifted her head to kiss him, as to prove her point. "I was just sad that the last image I had of you was of your back turned to me."

"Never again." he promised her. "I love you."

"I love you too, Guy but what good am I to you like this? You need a wife who will lay with you and take care of you and be by your side. I can barley stand on my own two feet."

"Yes …" he said slowley." But I hear you have perfected your hopping a great deal."

She can't help but laugh at that but then he grabs her cheeks between his hands and looks deep into her eyes. "I must never hear you speak such nonsense again. You are everything that I want and will ever want. You will heal and you will be strong again. You must never try to leave me again." he finally said, taking her hand and carresing her bandaged wrist with his thumb.

She looked down at her hand and felt ashamed. It had been such weakness of her to do that. "I won't."

"Good." he said trying to be cheerful. He sat holding her for some time trying to think of something to distract her from all those dark thoughts that were plaguing her. "But this is not time for sadness" he announced. "The twelfth night will be here soon."

She shuddered against his chest. "I hate Christmas!"

He frowned. He had never met anyone who did not like Christmas before. "Why?"

She stood up, away from him and looked down into her lap as she told him. She shrugged first and then spoke: "When I was at the monastery, we were made to fast for a whole week before. We were hardly given any food, just enough to keep us alive. Then on the twelfth night we were taken to the great Hall and sited at the long table where we usually ate. Except that there was no food. Another table was placed, away from us and on it there would be all sorts of pies and sweets and things I had never seen or eaten before."

She was almost crying as she told him the story, looking away from him as she had done that day in London when she had told him the story of her name. He wanted to stop her and embrace her but he didn't. He wanted to know what they had done to her. He wanted to know everything.

"We were made to sit there for hours. The smell would become intoxicating. Children would cry and beg or simply faint from exhaustion. Then the monks would come. They would sit down and eat everything. They said it was meant to teach us humility" Her eyes hardened and she swallowed in disgust. "Pigs!" she said. There was such a wild spite in her voice.

He took her in his arms and rocked her back and forth. He had learned she liked that but for the longest time, she did nothing. Her arms didn't embrace him back and she did not speak. She kept staring into nothingness with a violent, hateful look in her eyes. She wished they would all die. Finally he managed to bring her back, and she, slowly, very slowly, brought her body closer to him.

"You are not there anymore." he told her. "You will never be there again. You are here with me and this Christmas will be different." He would make sure of it. "I will give instructions for the best foods to be prepared and I will buy you many presents. As many as you want. Would you like that?". He felt her nod as he kept her pressed against his body.

"Twelve." she said decidedly razing her head.

"Just twelve?" he asked amazed. "Are you sure?"

"Yes! Because there are twelve days."

"Very well, then. Twelve it is."

"What do you want in return?" she asked, arching her eyebrow.

"I want to see you smiling."

She granted him his wishes and flung her arms around his neck.

"I think you've had enough air for one day. I best be getting you back to bed before Walaa' gives me a good thrashing" he joked.

He picked her up, blanket, sheets and all and headed for the house. "And just for this little exercise, my lady, you shall have to eat two cups of broth today."

"What?" she asked outraged. "Absolutely not! I refuse to be fattened like a pig before Christmas!"

"You'd do well to listen. I don't like my women thin!" he said proudly but immediately saw himself pinched hard.

"Woman, my lord! Woman! Singular."

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**ExperimentalMadness**: I've checked. The world did no tend! Shocking, isn't it?

Remember: reviews equal love!!


	35. Chapter 34: The twelfth hour

So sorry for not updating this sooner!! I've just focused on other things ...

So, Christmas ... sweet and rosy times.

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Chapter 34 – The twelfth hour

She had been taken out of her room early in the morning by her husband. Despite her protests and grumpiness, despite pulling the covers up to her chin and the pillow over her head; despite yelling that she had changed her mind about Christmas all together and that it should be banned or, at the very least, erased from the calendar, Guy would not be persuaded.

He just laughed and pulled the covers away, picking her up and pretending he did not notice the aggravated stare she was determined to inflict on him.

"If you want to sulk, go right ahead." he said as he pushed the door to the great hall open with his foot. "But I am determined to make a Christmas woman out of you yet!" With that he revealed the Great Hall and jolted her with his shoulder as she had hidden her face, afraid someone would see her. "Look up, vain creature. No one is here but us."

He had taken to teasing her over the last week and they had become quite good at it, as she responded in par hating to give him even the slightest satisfaction on that account.

This time she did not strike back, as her mouth remained firmly shut and she looked up as she was instructed. The Great Hall had been arranged in every detail especially for this occasion. Large mistletoe garlands crossed the room from beam to beam, ornaments and flowers were placed here and there. The fragrance of expensive fragrances resided through the room. The floors had been scrubbed recently and the large dinning table had been covered in brand new fabric and it was a miracle that it had not yet given way because of the large amount of steaming hot meats and cakes placed on it.

Near the fire Guy had instructed the placement of a large bench covered with large, soft cushions and surrounded by exactly twelve packages of all colors, shapes and sizes.

She looked about the room quietly, her eyes large and sparkling stopping briefly on the table knowing that everything on it was meant for her; resting for a moment on the light reflected through the large window and which spread its glow right down on the newly polished floor and finally focusing on the large packages placed at the feet of the bench.

There was no gratitude in her eyes, no word of thanks to him. She took it all as her given right and it made Guy laugh. She looked up at him surprised as he tilted his head back and laughed walking into the room carrying her, but before she could ask anything he dropped his head down and kissed her forehead: "That's my girl!"

Now she was sitting in the middle of the bench, placed on top of the pillows, a warm throw over her legs, facing the fire. Her cheeks had gone red from the warmth and from a little too much wine. The day was going by with mostly just the two of them keeping each other company, although Walaa' would come into the room, from time to time, seemingly arranging things but mostly just grinning from ear to ear to see her mistress happier then she had been in a long time.

Guy bid her to pick another present. There were still quite a few to be opened. He had bought everything he had gotten his hands on, everything he could find so late in the year. He had wanted to buy more but he resisted, promising himself to do so in the future, having a mind to replace that blasted necklace he had foolishly thrown away and that green dress she had destroyed. He wanted her to know how loved she was, how treasured.

Expensive colorful fabrics flew through the air, trinkets and small jewels fell on her lap making her laugh. For a few moments she felt no pain, no weight pressing hard upon her. All she saw were beautiful fluid movements of objects and Guy's eyes.

"The last one, Josie" he said standing up from the foot of her bench, where he had sited himself. She fallowed him with her eyes as he moved about the room and picked up a large box. He placed it in her lap and then stood still waiting for her to open it. He was nervous, she could tell.

She decided to prolong his state by opening the gift as slowly as possible, pulling on the string slowly and carefully, with a look of mischief in her eye.

"Open it already!" he said, razing his voice.

She smiled at his child like reaction and finally ripped apart the thin layer of paper, only to be faced with a child like reaction of her own. "Oh!" she gasped, covering her mouth with her hands in amazement.

Guy took the garment from her lap and held it high for her to see it. It was a magnificent red coat, covered in embroidery and patted with brown fur, finished off with a large fur hood. "So that you'll never be cold again."

She smiled openly and reached out her hands to call him to her. "Come here!" she said. She held him closely to her and kissed him on the cheek. She had never done that in the past. "Thank you.' is all she said.

They spent the next hour on the floor among the massive pillows Josephine had dragged down with her when Guy had taken to tickling her. Their behavior was so unlike them that it surprised even her. She could not help but ask as she leaned into his body: "I wonder what you were like as a child …"

"Trouble, no doubt" he answered grasping at her waist tightly.

"Were you handsome?"

"My mother thought so …"

"They don't really count, do they? Mothers … Anyone else to testify?"

"Well …" he spoke slowly, next to her ear. She could almost feel his half grin. "There was this girl."

"There always is …" she said before realizing just how jealous she had sounded.

"Agnes was her name. We used to run around, chasing each other when we were about five years of age. She never told me I was handsome, of course. But I imagine she did not find me repellent since she quite enjoyed our time together." He almost burst out laughing feeling her body stiffen against his touch. His Josie jealous of a little girl he knew as a child … Of course there was more to the story then that, but he thought it best to remain silent.

"Did you love her?" she asked quickly, once she sensed he would not speak any more on the subject.

He shifted uncomfortably at the question. "I don't know, Josie … I was a child. What did I know of love…"

"Everything" she whispered. "Love is never more honest then when you are a child. There is no ulterior motive to it. It's simple and undiluted." After a few moments of silence she asked again: "So husband, did you love her?"

"I suppose so" he finally admitted sighing.

"That is good … It is good to love someone when you are but five." She fell into a dark, pensive mood upon speaking that and was only brought back by Guy's voice.

"Did you love someone when you were five, Josie?"

"Hmm … Yes!" she answered with certain pride in her voice.

"Huntington …" he added with malice in his voice.

"God, no!" She jumped up immediately, speaking the words with surprise and disgust at having that name interrupt what had been a lovely day. "He came later …" she said, dropping her head on his chest when she felt him relax once more. "Besides I was too young for boys then. No, it was a little girl. She was very sweet and kind. I so wanted to be like her!"

Guy grinned: "Were you not sweet and kind back then?"

"I don't think I ever was. I was better then, of course, but not like that. I called her Angel because of it. She was very small and thin, even compared to the rest of us. I used to steal a blanket every night from the abby's storeroom so we'd have something to cover ourselves with. Then I would wake up at day break and put it back. Despite everything I was happy then, with her."

Guy waited for her to speak again, to finish the story but she seemed lost all of a sudden, staring into the fire. When he saw her starting to cry and gulp down the entire content of her goblet, he asked her what was wrong. She did not answer. "What happened to Angel, Josie?" he finally asked.

"She died. Her birthday came round, in February. It was so chilly outside and it rained for a week. She had to go to the cage and …and she was too weak to pull through."

She had told him about the cage before. Such things had seemed impossible to him before that. Even he, who had been responsible for more pain then he cared to remember, could not imagine such horror. And to think that she had been subjected to that, it made his blood boil.

He regretted they had gotten into this discussion, for the mood in the room suddenly shifted. There was an irry silence where there was laughter just a few moments ago. Horrible, unspoken tragedies floated through the air. He knew there was more. That there would always be more for her to tell him and he did not know if he wanted to find out. He wanted to wash it all away, to make it heal but he did not want to know what he was healing for the account would weigh too heavily on him.

As if she had sensed what he did not dare to say, she remained quiet. What good would it do to tell him everything? She had already. She had told him she had suffered. It was true. All the explanations of how it came about were less important.

She looked about the room once more. All of a sudden celebrating did not feel appropriate anymore. "Guy, take me upstairs." she said.

He was not surprised at her request and did not protest. For a moment she thought that perhaps he was relieved at not having to put up with her any longer but as he pulled her to him, holding her tightly and closely to him, she could feel his longing for her. She could feel how much he would have wanted for the day not to end there. She looked up at him and saw disappointment at himself for not being able to keep her happy for longer. She forced a smile on her face hoping it would take that look from his eyes away. "I love you, Guy." she finally said, burring her head in his chest.

He placed her on the bed and pulled the covers over her. He wanted to sit himself next to her but she did not allow it. "Please," she said grabbing his hand softly, "I want to be alone for a while."

He dropped his head down and sighed. "Of course" He reached out, wanting to kiss her but she pulled her face away. "Please, not now."

It took all of his willpower not to ask "When?" but he managed it clenching his fists tightly and looking away from her for a moment, not wanting her to see how she had hurt him. "I'm sorry." he finally whispered.

"I am the one who is sorry, Guy." she said taking his hand again. "I'm sorry I am unable to give you what you want."

"What I want is you! All of you. Every last part of you I claim for myself. Am I not right to do so?"

"Of course you are. Just please be patient. It is not my pride that rejects you. It is my mind. My feeble, confused mind that brings about all kinds of monsters."

"Your mind is not feeble, Josie" he said, with kindness this time, dropping down and kissing her temple. "I shall leave you now."

He went to blow out the candle but she stopped him. "Don't! Leave it."

He did not argue with her on it. She refused to stay without at least one candle when he wasn't in the room, no matter how silly he thought it.

"Will you come sleep with me tonight?" she asked as he reached the door.

"Of course." he said turning and smiling. "Where else would I go?"

"And you will tell me a story!" she ordered. "A new one!"

"Anything you wish, my lady." He answered bowing to her.

Guy spent a moment longer looking at his wife, as she moved her eyes from him and towards the window, reaching out with her hand to arrange the red veil on her head, a habit she had picked up over the last few weeks. She looked small and fragile sited in the middle of their large bed and most importantly out of reach. He wanted her, desperately. He wanted his wife back. He wanted to enjoy her body and for her to keep him company through out the day. He knew he would not bare the situation for much longer. Sooner or later he would confront her with it.


	36. Chapter 35: A feeble mind?

**ok, finally chapter 35!! the characters finally decided to come out of hiding and I hope you like this chapter. I'm going to Budapest tomorrow and I'm sooooooo happy! So I wanted you people to be happy also, hence the M rating of this chapter ... Lot's happens ... so all sorts of things to look for: violence, S-E-X so make sure you decide to want to read before you actually get started ... Thank you and enjoy!! **

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Chapter XXXV – A feeble mind?

She woke up in the middle of the night screaming. It had become a habit of hers over the last few weeks. She did not do it on purpose. Quite the contrary she feared she had lost all control over her body. The dreams were not like before. They seemed real and painful. They were sometimes about Robert but all the time they were about the Butcher. He had become her enemy. A man that had invaded not only her body but her mind as well and for that she hated him … She hated herself most of all, for allowing it.

Her husband laid next to her, his back turned, still and dark as the rest of the room. She looked at him for a moment, wanting to call him but thought better of it.

Guy was not sleeping yet he pretended to. He was growing tired of all of it. He thought that with time and patience she would become what she once was. He wanted the woman he fell in love with back. The strong, fearless, defiant woman who drove him mad with anger and lust. She seemed gone, lost to him forever and he did not know if he cared to live with this other person that was occupying his bed as of late. He knew he would think better of it in the morning. That he would be sorry to have thought what he was thinking right now. And he knew he would never leave her. But for now he remained still and determined not to say a word.

That is until she threw the bed covers off her, rose from the bed and headed for the weapon's trunk. His eyes snapped open immediately but kept his voice low and groggy: "Josie, bloody hell, come back to bed!"

"I can't. He's coming for me." She moved from the trunk, knife in hand and sited herself on the chair facing the door.

He sighed and stood up. "No one is coming. Put that thing down and come here!"

In response she simply shook her head and stared intently towards the door, keeping the knife close to her. "Go back to sleep." she told him

"Look Josephine" Guy said harshly. "I am tired of this game! For what ever reason you are doing it, stop! If he is to come I will protect you, like I have always done."

"But you haven't." she answered quietly. "You let him do those terrible things to me. You didn't protect me. You …"

"Enough!" Guy shouted and rose from the bed. He came at her and grabbed the knife out of her hand. His breathing was roughed and he looked at her with that violent gaze he had when she had really managed to anger him. Usually that would make her blood boil and she would retaliate in par, for when Guy was like this there were many advantages to be had and many blows to serve. Yet now, his reaction made her look up at him frightened and she sank into her chair pulling her red veil down on her head and covered her ears with her hands, moving her body back and forth like she always did when she felt surrounded and defeated.

"I'm sorry." Guy said quickly, bending down and pulling her to him, seeing his resolve crumble within seconds. "Please! I get angry sometimes. I have a temper. You know this of me. No need for this …" he said running his hand down her back.

"Guy, it is true!" she whispered, holding him tightly. "He is coming. I heard him …or perhaps I dreamt it …"

"No!" Guy said decidedly, pushing her so that he could look into her eyes. "This will not go on any longer! He is a varmint, a weak leper. I will not allow for him to haunt you a moment longer."

Within seconds he stood up, leaving her cold and with her hands extended towards him. He crossed the distance towards the bed and went about making light in the room.

"Stand up and come here." he said over his shoulder.

She did as he asked and approached him with shaking knees, guessing what he had in mind for her. "Guy, no …" she begged whispering. "Please …".

"This will have to do, I suppose." he said taking out an old, brown dress and holding it up. "I will buy you new ones, better ones but for now … take off that night shift."

"Guy, no ... I can't …" she said wrapping her arms around herself tightly.

He sighed and reached out his hands to the back of her shift. She did not pull away. He was surprised to feel his own hands shaking. He had held her in his arms every night for the last month and a half, while she shook from every part of her body, while she cried or while she slept. Yet there was something so incredibly erotic about undressing her, about the way she lifted her arms so that he might take the night shift off and reveal her naked body. He stood still for a moment, away from her, admiring her body … still as beautiful as ever. Slightly more slender then before but still milky white and perfect. She did not seem to mind being naked in front of him and encircled his waist with her long arms so that she might support her shaking body against his chest. She placed her ear against his heart and heard it beating out of control. An involuntary sly smile covered her lips for a moment knowing that the beating was for her and realizing just how hard the closeness was for him.

He knew she could tell how his desire for her was increasing but he did not mind. He wanted her to feel it in the hopes that it might prompt her to do something about it … to become his wife again. He ran his fingers along her spine till the edge of her buttocks and felt her shiver. He smiled his usual half smile and held the dress up.

-oOo-

Half an hour later they were in the cart. The horses were running wildly through the dark, frozen planes and he sat at the edge of the precipice. He feared that it was perhaps not such a good idea after all. That perhaps she was not ready, that he had pushed her too far and he might lose her completely.

He looked at her. She had not moved since she had gotten in the cart. She had pulled the large, furred hood of her red coat over her head and leaned against the door, staring outside into nothingness. She looked paler then ever and rubbed her hands against each other continuously in an attempt to numb her mind.

Still, he reasoned it was too late to back off now. His stubborn streak and his impatience told him to let the cart take its course. And so it did …

They soon arrived at Nottingham castle and the keeper let them through to the inner yard. The cold, sharp air hit them as soon as they came out of the cart and headed towards the entrance. Josephine looked up at the north wall, uneasy about the sight. She had never seen Nottingham like this. There was usually havoc and noise. Now she could see the reek of her own breath and heard one lonely groom, still half asleep, rushing to meet them with a torch.

Guy took it and quickly dismissed the groom. He grabbed her by the hand and pulled her towards the stairs.

They walked through the long corridors, with him leading the way with the torch and her hurrying behind him, grabbing her skirts with her free hand, trying to keep up. They walked through the corridors for a while, going deeper and deeper into the belly of the castle.

They finally stopped in front of a large iron door which Guy opened with a key he had placed in his pocket. He pushed the door open and began walking through another long corridor with cells on each side. Somewhere in the distance she could hear screams, wood and rusting metal squeaking and moaning and her resolve faltered. No doubt the henchmen were at work tonight. He squeezed her hand harder without looking at her and pulled her after him.

Finally towards the end of the corridor he released her hand and faced one of the cell doors. She felt her knees shaking out of control and she reached her hand to lean against the wall. She did not want to seem weak but she was afraid she might collapse once she would be faced with the sight.

Guy pushed the door open and entered. For a moment she did not see anything as she leaned against the wall, trying to catch her breath. She only heard a loud splash fallowed by a painful groan.

With her knees shaking, she pealed herself off the wall and pushed the door open. She looked about the room for a moment, blinded by the bright orange light coming from a large fire placed in the middle of the room, under what seemed to be a large metal table and numbed by the fowl smell of blood and feces. Chains and all sorts of contraptions covered the right and south wall. Guy was standing in the middle of the room, staring towards the left wall and suddenly she felt calm. She composed herself and took a few steps inside the room.

She turned towards the left wall and faced a gruesome sight. The Butcher was chained to the wall, blood covering his naked body, banging his head against the wall moaning. Josephine did not know what exactly Guy had done to him but he did not seem human anymore. His whole body was covered in wounds and he kept his legs apart and towards the sides, no doubt broken. Several parts of his body had been cut off and he was all skin and bones.

Josephine should have been shocked at the sight, nauseated but she wasn't. She had never seen these kinds of things before. Of course she had seen executions but never anything like this, and yet, she stared at him calmly. She was not afraid anymore. He stared blankly at her with the only eye he had left and didn't even seem to recognize her. He was like an animal. A wounded, trapped animal.

"Like the circus!" she said all of a sudden and started to laugh. Right there in front of all that blood and pain, Josephine Gisborne felt like herself again. She knew what she had to do now. It wasn't for revenge or out of fear but because it had to be done. And as so many things in her life before this, when something had to be done Josephine did it.

The sound of her voice made him flinch. He had not heard voices in so long. "Mama?" he asked smiling at her.

She smiled back and turned towards her husband who was watching her with a puzzled expression. She did not say anything. She just stared into his eyes while she reached her hand towards his waist and pulled his dagger out. Before he could say anything, she turned around and headed for the Butcher. She kept the dagger low, next to her body and pulled the large hood off her head.

As she approached him the Butcher smiled at her again and said: "Mama! You've come to see me?"

She stood in front of him and ran her hand through his hair while her eyes stared at him coldly. "Yes, it's your mama …" she said. He looked at her with love and smiled openly revealing a toothless mouth. Soon though his look turned to horror and then pain as she plunged the blade deep into his belly. He wanted to gasp or scream but the sound would not come. Within seconds he was dead. She pulled the knife out and slowly wiped it against his flesh until it was clean again.

She turned around to face Guy, fearing that he would look at her horrified and disgusted but he seemed relieved. She came towards him and as she lifted her arms, she felt her hands wet and clammy. She looked down to find her red gloves covered in blood and she started shaking, dropping the dagger to the ground.

She stared at them for a while until he grabbed them between his large, leather covered hands, steadying them and pulling the gloves off her hands and throwing them to the side.

"Thank you …" she said looking at him. "That is the kindest thing you've ever done for me."

-oOo-

As the cart moved quickly through the night, Guy looked at his wife hoping to find something different in her. She did not seem better after what she had done. She was still leaned against the door, staring outside mindlessly, the hood pulled over half her face.

He had thought that when faced with the Butcher she would realise she did not need to fear him. He had gone as far as to think that she would ask him to kill the man. Now he realised that his wife did not need to ask anyone else to handle her affairs. She was quite capable of taking care of anything herself.

Still he had hoped the whole affair would have left her happier, more like herself. He decided not to push the matter for tonight. She was already tired and had gone through enough to have him torment her more.

He led her through the house slowly, her body leaning into his as she grew weak again.

Once in the room, he began to undress slowly and she stood in front of the door looking at him, walking from side to side. It felt uncomfortable the way she was staring at him and he feared she would tell him to leave at any moment. For a moment he thought about removing his woolen breeches but changed his mind quickly.

As he headed for the bed, she called out to him … "Guy?" she asked in a shaking voice.

"Yes …"

"Lay with me tonight …" she told him hesitantly.

For a moment his heart leaped and felt his legs move without even noticing but he soon stopped himself, fearing what might happen if he did what she asked. He didn't think he could stand seeing her banging her head against the wall, curled up and crying. "Perhaps we should wait a little longer …" he said regretfully.

"No …" she said, coming towards him and lifting her arms to untie the laces of the gown. "It will not be as it was before. I am ready now" she said pushing her gown down.

The sight of her body through the transparent material of her undershift made him shift uncomfortably for a moment willing himself to remain still. "Josie, I don't want to hurt you …"

"Then don't …" she said, dropping her undershift to the ground. "I've tried washing him off me. I've tried removing him from my skin but he will not leave!" she told him slowly. "So you must do it for me. Please …" She whispered the imploring word slowly, looking at him and it was all it took for him to come next to her.

"Is he here?" he asked kissing her temple and pulling on her red veil. He pushed her hands away as she tried to stop him. "Shhhhhh! You know how much I like your hair."

"It's chopped now."

"It will grow." he told her as he pushed her hair over her shoulders and bent down to kiss her neck. "Is he here?" he asked as he moved up again towards her mouth, feeling her nod. He kissed her slowly, cupping her face with his hands and trying to concentrate on every single feature of her face, as he continued to kiss her cheeks, her eyelids, her nose, her ears …

By the time he was done her face was burning red and she looked up at him dizzy.

"Do you trust me?" he asked her.

"Yes …"

"I will stop if you tell me to. No matter what, I will stop." he said and bent down to pick her in his arms.

As he put her on the bed and looked down at her, laying there with her hair spread across the pillow, breathing hard, a little apprehensive of what was to happen, he wondered if he could really keep the promise he had made just moments before.

He laid next to her and began caressing her body, telling her to close her eyes. As he began kissing every inch of her body, working his way down towards her legs and the ugly scar on her left thigh, he again had to wonder who much self-control he would have to muster.

He heard her whimper as he pushed her legs open slowly but she did not say anything. She grasped at the white sheet beneath her and arched her back, trying not to think of anything except Guy. It became easier then she had thought, as his hands ran across her body and his tongue left a wet trail along her abdomen and towards the place that had endured so much destruction.

His touch was soft and silky and she suddenly felt a burning quiver in her belly that she did not think she would feel again. She gave out a low moan that surprised her as much as him. He smiled and continued to kiss her until her breathing became roughed and quickened. It took time but he did not mind it. He enjoyed the taste of her under his lips, the way her heated thighs moved around his face as he ran his fingers up and down her flesh.

Finally, he felt her hand at the back of his neck, running her fingers through his hair and he began to move upwards towards her. He stood up for a moment until she opened her eyes.

He picked up her hand, kissing it slowly and brought it towards his breeches, keeping it there until he felt her fingers wrap around him. He tilted his head and gave out a satisfied groan. "Undress me, Josie." he told her.

She did as she was told, lifting herself up towards him and pulling on the laces of his breeches and pushing them down over his thighs. Once he had removed them, he laid on top of her, pulling her legs up, around his waist. He kissed her slowly as she wrapped her arms around his neck.

"Are you ready?" he asked and waited until he saw her nod. He pulled her upwards and guided himself into her.

She gave out a small whimper, biting her lip hard and closing her eyes.

"Am I hurting you?"

"No …" she said.

He pushed himself into her slowly and began moving fearing that at any moment he might lose control. He was not a man to deny himself pleasure or to postpone it and learning how to do it was costing him. "Open your eyes" he said looking at her. "I want you to see me."

She did as he asked and he kept her head in check as he lowered her on the pillow and himself on top of her. He kept looking at her as his face changed slowly until he could hardly see anymore. He feared he was moving too fast but she did not say anything. She gasped and tilted her head back, beginning to move faster.

He recognized the movement and pulled her upwards. "Who am I, Josie?" he asked her, stopping his movements and confusing her.

She gasped for a moment, annoyed that he had stopped, not knowing what to say. Then finally, looking into his eyes she spoke: "You are Guy of Gisborne." she said.

He smiled satisfied and pushed into her again, making her spine tingle. "And what else?" he asked.

This time she smiled and brought her hands towards his face: "You are my husband." She pushed backwards, bending her spine and moving around him.

"And what else?" he asked, his hot breath falling over her breast. She moaned deeply, shoving her hands in his hair and pulling him towards her. "You're … You're … You're my master …"

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**just in case you were fearing Madame Sadistic was gone, she came back with a vengance (or so I hope, LOL). And just in case you felt sorry for The Butcher I suggest you go read the "A wreck" chapter and get over it!! remember: reviews equal love!!**


	37. Chapter 36: A stork in sight

**sooo ... chapter 36. this one came about very easily. it's a quiet, nice little chapter. no angst in sight. a lot of fluff ... what can I say, sometimes a girl just has to write some fluff. Anyway, I hope you like it**

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Chapter 36 – A stork in sight

He woke up early in the morning, untangling himself from her arms. He spent a moment on the edge of the bed looking at her. She slept with her mouth half open, her hair spread across the pillow. Her right hand opened and closed slowly and he ran his finger on the inside of her palm, making her fist close around his thumb. It made him smile and he pulled his finger out of it slowly.

The large fur covered her up to her waist, revealing most of her upper body. Her breasts were still red for his heated kisses the night before. He couldn't help but run a finger around one of her nipples, hardening it as he went over it, remembering how good it had felt to have his wife back. It made her sigh and shift her position.

It was his signal to get up and he did so quickly, walking about the room to find his clothes.

"Let me do that." she said throwing the covers off her, and standing on her knees in the middle of the bed, just as he began putting his leather tunic on. He smiled and got closer to her as she began lacing his breeches and fastening the wolf clasps on his garment. "Where are you going?" she asked, biting her lip in concentration and throwing the few long stands of hair remaining over her shoulder.

"I'm going to Nottingham. The Sheriff is growing impatient and it is not wise to anger him."

"I know." she said sighing and dropping down to admire her work. She appraised him from head to toe, biting her lip in want, stopping briefly on the edge of his shoulders and on his long, muscular thighs … "You are so handsome, husband." she said, running her hands over his legs.

He smiled at the compliment. He kept looking at her as she sat in the middle of his bed smiling at him with her hair chopped in a confusing pattern. She looked like a little girl who had played with her mother's scissors. It made him realise how little he really knew about her. "How old are you, wife?" he asked reaching out his hand and caressing her cheek as she leaned into it. He wondered why he had never asked her that before.

She squinted painfully. "That is not a very nice thing to ask a woman … especially so early in the morning." She remained silent for a few moments looking at him before answering: "I am 3 and 20."

"That is young, my love." he told her smiling.

"That really depends on who you're talking to."

He dropped down to kiss her on the forehead and then he sat down to pull his boots on as she wrapped her arms around his back and put her chin on his shoulder. "So what are you going to do today?" he asked her hoping she would not spend the whole day in bed. It really wasn't good for her.

"Well, firstly, I really must do something about this hair." She sighed slowly. "I can't wear that red veil forever. And then I thought I'd have the dress maker over, if you don't mind." she said nibbling on his ear.

"I think that is a very good idea." he agreed, turning around.

She could tell that he felt guilty for having kept her in those horrible garments all these months so she pulled his head closer and kissed him deeply, taking time to run her tongue over his lower lip. The touch made him grunt and bring his hand over her back as he begun to run his fingers up and down her spine, making her tingle.

She arched her back a little and it was all he needed to begin to kiss first her left breast and then the right.

"I thought you had to leave."

"In a moment." he said in a hoarse voice, as he pushed her down on the bed and climbed on top of her.

-oOo-

She sat in front of her mirror, holding the scissors tightly. All over her shoulders and on the floor next to her, large strands of hair laid having fallen only moments earlier. She had done it! She sighed in relief as she appraised herself. Her hair was so short now! Her neck was entirely exposed and you could even see her ears. Her hair was shorter then Guy's she thought and she could not help but smile at the thought.

She ran her hand through her hair to eliminate any loose bits and she realised that she had not had hair this short since the convent. They used to shave their heads there. They said it was for piety but most likely it was to avoid lice. When she had run away she had sworn never to cut her hair again. But it couldn't be helped! And it was not exactly a tragedy.

She turned her head left and right looking at the length of her neck. Quite a pretty neck at that! And she had small, elegant ears. Why shouldn't they be seen? She could adorn her hair, she thought, until it grows. There were head dresses and earrings. She was sure Guy would give her anything she wanted. And surely, she had other charms worth her husband's admiration.

"And soon …" she thought out loud, smiling and putting her hand over her naked belly and rubbing it slowly. Very soon she would make sure to give him something he wanted even more. She had decided during the night that it was the right thing to do.

She was still smiling and holding her belly when Walaa' came in. She remained still in the doorway, for a moment, looking at her mistress in shock, seeing her turn around, hair all around her. "What you do?" she asked.

"It doesn't look that bad, does it?" Josephine asked, frowning.

Walaa' shrugged and moved towards the bed. "No. You beautiful." Inwardly she was happy to see her mistress on her feet but was afraid to say so. She knew how fragile Josephine was at the moment. How she wanted to move on from what had happened without saying another word about it.

Josephine was satisfied and returned to her mirror, dropping her chin on her hand. "Walaa'?" she said after a while.

"Hmm …"

"You remember those brews you said you could make to help women in need of children?"

Walaa' dropped the pillow from her hands at once. She didn't like this one bit. "Yes …"

"I want you to make me one." Josephine said. "I'm going to start drinking them religiously. I'm going to give my husband a child." she announced as she got up from her dressing table and moved towards the clothing chest, leaving Walaa' in a state of shock, sitting on the bed.

Josephine knew what the matter was. Walaa' was jealous, afraid that she would matter very little in her mistress's life once she would have a child but she refused to touch on the subject, so she pressed on. "Or two ... or three." She stopped for a moment while she pulled a gown out of the chest and then thought about it better. "Well, maybe not that many. Children are usually thought pleasant things but they do wreak havoc on one's body. Why, there was this woman I saw one time … well, she must have had about 10 of them. You couldn't tell where her neck began and her hips ended. Quite dreadful!"

"Why?" Walaa' asked all of a sudden, standing up from the bed. "What need you have of baby?"

"Because my husband wants one. Because he's always wanted one and I plan on giving him anything he might desire. I never want him to think he is lacking something because he is with me." she said as she handed Walaa' the dress and pulled on her shift.

"And besides …" Josephine said after a while, taking pity on Walaa' as she heard her crying quietly as she laced her gown. "I thought you might enjoy a baby around. At least you can be sure he will not beat you." she said quietly, dropping her head down.

"So you want me take care of baby?" Walaa' asked hopefully as she finished lacing the gown.

"You know, sometimes you really are a silly cow!" Josephine said, laughing and turning around. "I am sorry about hitting you. I wasn't myself …" she told her after a while putting her hand over Walaa's hands in a rare moment of tenderness.

It was over very soon and Josephine fixed her position. "I'm going to cook my husband's meal today. I think we'll make the stew. He likes that. Oh, and tell Gretchen to wait for me in the kitchen. I have put it off for far too long but that little harlot will have her due today." she told Walaa' as she saw her head for the door.

"Oh … and Walaa' go talk to Archie this afternoon. Tell him I need to see him. It's been a good while since we've talked."

-oOo-

He can hear voices coming from his chamber as soon as he begins to climb the stairs. There is a lot of fuss and quite loud laughter and footsteps of women running around.

"The green one." he hears her say. "I must have the green one as well."

He pushes the door open to find his wife with her back turned to him and her arms in the air standing on a chair with five maids running around her draping her in fabrics and taking her measurements.

The first thing that strikes him as he walks into the chamber is his wife's short hair. It no longer covers her back and he is left to admire her back and voluptuous curves through the transparent material of her shift. It seems almost indecent to him, as if she is naked for all the world to see. The idea of letting other people see her as she is now frightens him and enchants him at the same time. There is something incredibly appealing in having people look at his wife and know she belongs to him.

As he leaned into the door to close it all of the maids turned around and gasped at seeing their master so close to them. There was a new girl as well. Small, round thing with curly, brown hair and small grey eyes.

"My Lord!" Josephine said turning around. "You are home." She stepped down from the chair immediately, waved away the robe one of her maids had opened for her and ran straight for her husband. She jumped in his arms and kissed him deeply, much to the surprise of the serfs.

"You have been busy, I see." he said, holding her in his arms after she had released his mouth.

"Oh, yes!" she said, her eyes ablaze. "It was great fun!" She stood down from his arms, taking him by the hand and dragging him towards the bed where she proceeded to show him each and every last one of the dresses she had ordered. Around 20 or so, by Guy's calculations. She moved fast!

"And this one …" she said holding up a green fabric.

"How many are there?" he asked, teasing her.

"Well there are quite a few." she said, playing around with the fabrics on the bed. "There are 7 days in a week, you know …" She looked up at him to prove her point.

He could not help but laugh. "Yes … and apparently I'm paying for all of them, three times over."

She gave him a charming smile as she turned around towards the dress maker. "That will be all, Mistress Agatha." she told the dress maker waving her off.

As the maids were leaving, she looked towards the new girl and told her: "Oh and Mary … Lord Gisborne and I will take our bath now."

"Yes, mistress." the woman said quickly, bowing and closing the door afterwards.

"Is it necessary for the whole of Locksley to know when I'm taking my bath?" he reprehended her.

"I'm sorry, my lord." she said, smiling sheepishly and moving closer to him. "I thought you might enjoy a relaxing bath after the tedious day you surely must have had in the Sheriff's company. I thought about joining you but if don't want me to …" She left the sentence unfinished as she unlaced her shift suggestively and moved further away from him.

"Come here!" he ordered possessively, as he put his hand around her waist and dragged her between his legs as he leaned into the foot of the bed. He placed her on his knee and brought her hand up to kiss each of her fingers in part.

"I removed Gretchen from the kitchen" she told him quickly. "Oh, and I made stew. I know it's your favorite. I was quite in luck as …"

"Wait, wait!" he said confused. "You removed Gretchen? Why?"

"You are not displeased, are you?" she asked, pulling away from him.

"No, of course not. It's your decision. But she was a quite talented cook."

"Yes … and a quite talented lover as well …" Josephine said bitterly turning her head away from him. "What? Did you think I had forgotten?" she asked as he brought her face back to look at her properly.

He looked at her seriously and could not think of anything to say that would make the pain from her eyes disappear so he chose the quickest response. "She wasn't that good." he said and was promptly hit in the chest. "Where is she now?"

"Taking care of the pigs." she said, smiling satisfied.

The idea of that silly girl, singing to the pigs made Guy laugh out loud. The house roared under the burden of his voice and he fell to the bed taking Josephine with him. "Josie, you are a woman to be reckoned with! I wouldn't like to be on your bad side."

"Oh, you would manage" she told him grudgingly, climbing on top of him and bending down for a kiss.

"I like your hair like that." he said as he pulled her down into an embrace.

-oOo-

"Josie …" he said rubbing the sponge unto her back carefully. "I thought I might take you on a trip. Would you like that?" He pulled her back with him as he leaned against the wooden edge of the bath, trying to stretch his long legs inside the narrow contraption.

"A trip?" she asked excitingly, as he ran his wet fingers through her hair. "Where are we going?"

"Ah … That is a surprise. Do not ask anymore for I shall not tell you."

"Oh, I will not …" she agreed resting her head on his chest. "I like surprises."

"Guy …" she said after a while.

"Hmmm?" he asked closing his eyes and dropping down into the tub.

"Are you going to the fields after supper?"

"Yes …" he answered, beginning to relax his body.

"Guy …" she said again, shaking him to make sure he was not asleep.

"Hmmm?"

"Can I come with you?"

"Yes."

She tilted her body to the left, so that she was laying on her side and stretched her arm to pick the pitcher with hot water, pouring it over them.

"Guy …"

"Hmmm?" he asked for the third time, already half asleep

"Would you like us to have a child?"

The question made his eyes snap open immediately. "A child?" he asked surprised. He had not even thought about it. He had always thought that when he would marry, it would be so that he might carry out his line and sure enough he had not taken any precautions with her. But their intimacy had been so scarce that it was no wonder she was not yet with child. "Would you?" he finally asked.

"Yes." she said. "I want to have a child … your child. A boy with blue eyes and black hair that we can dress in leather from head to toe." she joked.

"No!" he said quickly. "I don't want our son to be like me. I'm doing all of this so that he might never have to."

The admission made her turn around to face him and wrap her arms around him even tighter. "Do you think we will be good parents?" she asked trying to forget what she had done more then 5 years back. She closed her eyes tightly and shook her head to be rid of it. She would have a baby! She was not barren! She could not even contemplate the thought.

"I don't see why not." he said making small, wet circles on her shoulder.

"Well, we don't really have the best to recommend us …"

Her words made him stop, almost frozen. He felt his throat constricted as he asked her: "Do you have children, Josie?"

"No!" she said quickly. "I was always most careful about these things." She could not bring herself to tell him that she had lost a child from the very same womb that she was hoping would not fail her this time. She did not want to place that between them. "What I meant to say was that I grew up without a family and that you … you … well, your son ….you …" She could not bring herself to speak the words from fear of wounding him more then she saw she already had by only talking of it.

"Did he look like me?" he asked after a while.

"No … He looked like her, I think …"

"Still, I don't doubt he was my child …" he said. He could not deny that. Annie had been a maid when he had taken her and there was no one else. He didn't like sharing his women and he made that perfectly clear to her.

"So I should imagine … Why did you do it?" she asked, rising her head from his chest and looking at him.

"What do you mean?"

"Why leave him there? Why did you not take him somewhere?"

"I meant to. I meant to keep my word to Annie and take him at the Abbey but … People gossip." he said, his eyes hardening. "I didn't want rumors about him. I did not want people calling him my bastard or to connect him to me in any way."

"Oh …" she said, beginning to understand. It was about the Gisborne name again. Some were worthy of it and some were not, as he had explained to her a long time ago. He had said then that she was not worthy of it. He had changed his mind since then but she knew he would not be so lenient to that little boy. It was comforting to know. It is one thing to compete for a man's affection with another woman or even with the man's ego. Something else entirely to fight it out with a child. She would be the only mother of the Gisborne issue and she preferred it that way.

"And then there was Marian …" he said making her shift uncomfortably and spilling some water in the process. "I did not want her to think ill of me."

"But she already thought ill of you, with or without the child." she said, wanting to make that perfectly clear.

"Yes, I know. I was a fool. But in any case I could never love that child …"

"I know …" she whispered, burring her head between his arms.

"With our children it will be different." he said lifting her chin to force her to look at him. "I will love them more then anything …. Because I love you more then anything."

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**this actually kick starts one of my favorite parts of the story. it pretty much brings Guy a lot of closure and it help shim realise that he should not regret the past so much because he has the chance at a good life with Josie and a potential baby. and it all happens on this trip he wants to take Josie on. I wonder where he plans on taking her? well I know but do you think I'm going to tell you?! NO! you'll just have to read and see. remember reviews equal love!!**


	38. Chapter 37: I tie myself to thee

yes, yes ... I know! bad writer, bad writer! updating this story was long overdue but to my defence I did try! It just didn't want to get written. Anyway, here it is! It's rated **M** because of certain things happening in the last part of the chapter. Enjoy! ... and yes, you CAN lynch me ... if you CAN catch me that is!!

* * *

Chapter 37 – I tie myself to thee

The cart moved quickly through the ever changing planes, as he gazed out the window wondering what it was going to be like to be back again after all the time that had passed. The trip was a rather short one and they were approaching their destination with every moment that went by. It had always irked him that he had settled so close to it. He had wondered the country high and low trying to be rid of it's calling, only to have to establish his household so near it. Almost from the first moment he had arrived in Nottingham, he had itched to come back here but he stopped himself. He had nothing to show for himself then. He would have been regarded as a simple, desolate fool. A ghost of times that had longed passed.

But now it was a different matter. He was a man of means and position that far outweighed the people he still felt he had to prove himself to. And, most importantly, he was not alone anymore. He had a beautiful, young wife who loved him deeply. She was dazzling and cultivated and would make all those people who had laughed behind his back look at her in awe and envy.

They had left early in the morning, for the roads were not safe and he did not want anything to remind her of the hell she had gone through. But she was not used to waking up so early in the morning and she had been asleep almost immediately after they had set off.

He had had the cart's interior patted with fur to give her more comfort and she had buried her head in the soft hair until a stone had jilted her and woken her up in a state of confusion. He had laughed and pulled her to him, telling her to lift her legs up and rest her head on his thigh.

And that was where she had remained for the entire duration of the trip, while he kept one of his hands over her belly to stop her from falling when the cart moved over an obstacle or ran through a hole. His other hand caressed her hair and face while he absently looked outside the window as the landscape became more and more familiar and painful.

-oOo-

The cart finally came to a halt in front of a relatively large Inn, after almost five hours of traveling. The sudden stop made Josephine flinch and wake up as Guy caressed her face.

"Wake up, sweetheart. We're here." he told her softly.

She stood up slowly, pushing the large hood of her coat away from her face and rubbing her eyes. "The Broken Sword" she read the inscription on the Inn's wall as her husband opened the door and extended his hand to help her out. She came down from the cart slowly, lifting her skirts and looking around the new surroundings.

Guy had sent word earlier that week that they were to be expected, and rows of serfs were outside waiting for them, ready to carry the luggage and show them to their rooms. They were all looking at him with a mixture of disbelief and interest. Most likely, the older ones still remembered him while the younger ones would have, undoubtedly, heard the story.

He walked with her a few steps before releasing her hand. "I have to leave you now." He whispered next to her ear.

Her heart jumped at his words turning around quickly, her eyes wide in shock. "What do you mean? Are you going to leave me here alone?"

"It's just for a few hours, Josie. There is something I need to do." he said lowering his voice, trying not to let the people around them hear.

"A few hours?!"

"I am sure you are quite capable of taking care of yourself." he joked, winking at her.

She was in no mood for jests so she grabbed him by the hand and pulled him to her slowly. "You really mean to leave me here alone without even telling me where you are going?"

He smiled his usually half grin and bowed deeply to her. "My lady …" With that, he turned around and headed for the horse one of the grooms had already settled for him as instructed.

"You are not even going to tell me where we are?" she shouted after him as he mounted his horse.

"You are in Colwick, mistress." an older woman said, approaching her.

She stood motionless for a few seconds, watching her husband's figure disappear, before turning to the woman. "Ah! How nice." she said, heading for the entrance.

"Should I show to your rooms, my lady?" the woman asked, fallowing Josephine towards the entrance.

"Yes. And bring some food up." she told the woman. She could not believe that Guy had left her without so much as an explanation. It was so unlike him. She wondered what was so special about this place that it would unbalance her husband so greatly.

-oOo-

He walked in just as she had finished her lunch and found her perched up, on the chair in front of the window, gazing outside into the blue horizon, letting the sun warm up her face. Her eyes were closed and she smiled in contentment, holding her belly.

He came towards her slowly, trying not to make a sound and bent down quickly, kissing her on the nose.

She flinched and opened her eyes but before she jumped up, he had already encircled her waist and covered her mouth with his. It was a long, deep kiss as she finally wrapped her arms around his neck. Finally she was released and she could breathe again. "Where have you been?" she asked pushing him away and standing up. "I've been waiting here for hours! Martha keeps looking at me as if I'm some pathetic abandoned wife!"

"Who's Martha?" he asked confused as he saw her walking across the room. She looked deliciously annoyed and he could not help but smile.

"The inn keeper."

"Oh! Well, put your coat on. We don't have any time to lose." He said quickly reaching out for her.

"Where are we going?" she asked, pulling away from him.

"You will see when we get there."

"What is this place?" she insisted. "Why are we here and why are you behaving like this?"

He sighed. "We're in Colwick." he said trying to joke again. "Hasn't Martha told you?"

"That is not what I meant! _Why_ are we in Colwick?"

"Josie, please get dressed. You will soon know everything, I promise you." he said taking two large steps and pulling her into his arms. "Besides, didn't you say you liked surprises?" His face was darkened and burdened by something she could not understand but that she noticed immediately, despite his efforts to conceal it. She had so many questions still, but said nothing.

"All right, Guy." she said smiling. This was obviously important to him. "We'll do it your way."

Guy's peculiar behavior continued as he insisted that they go riding. For once Josephine decided not to press him for answers and simply submit. His body was in such a state of tension and concentration that she dared not challenge him. She guided her brown mare after his own horse apace, through a narrow, frosted country road until finally coming to a halt a top a small hill overlooking what she supposed to be a lord's residence. It was a large village, much like Locksley with an imposing manor set in the center of it. She could tell it had once been something to marvel at. Large, strong, stone pillars sustaining it, wide tall walls and a generous, grand entrance. Indeed, it looked like it had once belonged to a man of great importance.

However, it was clear to Josephine that the said lord had fallen out of favor for the house was in poor condition and in desperate need of repair. The grounds did not look much better. There was scarcely any life around the place. A few dogs running around unchallenged and idly, an old woman carrying water towards the house. No sound of bread being made or of blacksmiths going about their business. It much looked like a place which had been abandoned. The gardens looked overtaken by weeds. Half the fields around the village had been frozen before the inhabitants had managed to harvest it. Instead the corn laid frozen and shriveled before her. _It was probably hunger that has driven all the villagers out of their homes_, she thought.

She turned her head towards Guy, wondering why he wanted her to see this. His profile seemed set in stone, as he starred ahead with a look of anger about his face. Before Josephine had a chance to voice her concern, he spoke:

"Do you see that ridge over there?" he asked pointing left, towards a tall snow covered hill "And to your right … that small patch of forest?"

She looked form one side to the other and nodded slowly, waiting for him to speak.

"All this used to be Gisborne land."

"Gisborne?" she asked astounded, looking at him. She could understand now the look of sadness and anger, his reluctance at telling her where they were and what they were doing here. He had come home. She reached out and grabbed his hand.

"It's not much now, for sure." he continued, starring ahead. "But in my father's day … Locksley didn't hold a candle to it!" and remaind silent, gazing about the place remembering as it once was. The grey, hallow image starring back was too depressing to contemplate.

"I wanted you to see this" he said after a while. "I wanted you to see it so that you might understand why everything that I have acquired is so important to me. It comes at a great cost to me. I have sold my very soul to get it and I will wage war on anyone who tries to take it from me because I am determined never to live in the gutter again."

His words, the cold, hissing whisper of his voice made her shake and she tried to remove her hand from his. To no avail. He only grasped it harder, holding her in place. This was about the money again, she knew that. The money she had taken and the very same she had asked him to put back for Robert to take. This was his way of telling her he would never do that and his way of making her choose. She knew she had to choose sooner or later and it frightened her … because choice had never been easy for her.

"I know you understand this" he continued, in a slightly softer voice, "because you and I are the same. I do not have to hide myself from you or disguise my intentions. I do not have to feel ashamed when I say that sometimes the need for power and money blinds me … but I swear to you, from this day on, it will never blind me to you." He brought her caged hand up and kissed it softly, feeling her relax under his lips. He looked back at her as she stood next to him with her head bowed, white, silky scarf around her face, blowing against the wind … she looked almost like an angel. He knew she wasn't one but for the moment he was content to think of her as such.

"Come." he urged. "There is one more thing I want to show you."

She fallowed him silently, down the hill, towards the village. Their forms were but mere shadows in the dusk light, as they traveled around the edge of the desolate place. Guy kept steeling quick glances now and again, towards the well where his father had descended one time when he was little and he had dropped his wooden horse; towards the large oak tree where he had made a small hut for himself. It was gone one. It had probably been gone for years. There were no children here who could make use of it.

Finally he saw in front of him the cemetery gate and beyond it the church yard and the tall, stone building his father had erected in the first year as Lord of the Manor. He dismounted his horse and helped his wife down as well, before tying the horses and grabbing Josephine's hand.

They walked together in silence towards the church. All of a sudden he stopped, making Josephine trip over his foot. He didn't even notice. He changed directions, walking between the countless graves towards the furthest corner of the graveyard, until he found it.

It was a simple grave … simple and small, covered in tall grass and weeds. "This is my mother's grave." he said. "My mother's and my brother's. They … they let me burry them here. My father did not join them. He was a traitor or so they said … He wasn't given a proper funeral." He kept his jaw tightly clenched and his eyes hard as he spoke. He hated being here, she could tell and yet he could not leave. "I made the cross myself ... "

Josephine starred at the sad little grave and at the small, crocked cross and thought hard about what to say to him. She did not know what he wanted to hear. She did not understand his grief. To her, dead people were no concern of the living. They were dead and that was the end of it. But she knew that her true thoughts would give him no comfort. Finally, she took her gloves off and stuffed them in her pocket. She sat down, on her knees next to the grave and began pulling out the weeds one by one until the ground underneath was uncovered and the cross could be seen clearly. She then stood up and came to stand next to Guy. She grabbed his hand between her muddy palms and rested her chin on his shoulder until he turned and pulled her into his arms.

"I love you." he said and kissed her temple, turning away from the grave. "Come. The priest is waiting for us." He pulled her towards the church again.

"Why should he be waiting for us?"

"He's going to marry us, of course."

"What?" she asked astounded and refused to walk. She looked at him to see if he was serious or if he was just toying with her. "Do you jest?" she asked suspicious of his sly smile.

"No, I do not. I figured this was the only way I could give you a proper ring."

"But, Guy, we're already married." she said, lowering her voice.

"No. I married Isabelle De Bracy. Now I want to marry you."

She stood stunned for a few seconds , unable to speak. "But … but … it wouldn't count. I'm not baptized." she managed to say.

"I wouldn't tell the priest that if I were you." Guy said, joking and started walking again pulling her after him.

They made their way towards the church and Guy stopped at the foot of the stairs. He guided Josephine towards a small room located on the outer hallway of the church, a room usually reserved for guests or charity works. "I have left a dress for you here." he whispered in her ear and opened the door. "I will be waiting inside the church." He kissed her gently on the neck and left her in the doorway, nodding slowly and starring ahead.

Waiting for her was the hardest thing Guy had ever had to do. It felt like an eternity of standing in front of the priest waiting for her to walk in. He kept steeling quick glances behind to catch a glimpse of her but nothing.

When she finally walked in, he stood stunned watching her coming closer to him until the priest had to remind him to kneel in front of the altar. As he turned and did as he was told, he could almost feel her giggle at his expense.

She knelt next to him and kept her gaze straight ahead towards the priest. He looked at her, insistently but she did not waver. He made to grab her hand but she pushed him away with a mischievous smile. She took pleasure in tormenting him but he could not be angry with her for it. He wondered now how he had missed all this beauty the first time he had been in front of an altar with her. The dress he had bought her was simple but she embellished it. Her skin against it looked like alabaster softly glowing. Her lips were red and her form demure and yet deceiving. She had removed her head piece and now she stood with her hair cropped, exposed, almost vulnerable. There was no other like her. He knew that now more then ever before. She was one of a kind and she was his … and yet she belonged only to herself. That's what enticed him the most … that it was decision that made stay with him, not obligation.

-oOo-

"I want this to be the first time I never had." she told him softly, leaning against the room's door, before opening it.

He nodded slowly, ready to give her anything she wanted and she pulled him inside the chamber slowly.

She left him standing in the middle of the fire lit room as he watched her turn around and head for the bed, turning her head slightly now and again to look at him as he grew more and more desirous of her. "Will there be a bedding ceremony?" she asked before turning around and grabbing hold of the bed post with a shaking hand.

He looked at her before answering. She entertained a mischievous grin and a seductive, playful light in her eyes but he could sense she was nervous, almost timid. He could not understand why. Being with her had become second nature to him and he thought that it was the same for her. Still, weddings had strange effects on women and he thought it best to play along. "No, my lady. You seem healthy to me and you did promise me a son. I trust you to know what you are capable of." he joked and made a move towards her.

"What about me?" came the question that he did no expect and that froze him in place.

"What?" he asked.

"Am I not aloud to ask for a bedding ceremony? After all, I do not want to be married to a feeble man." She taunted him and he couldn't help but feel aroused at the implication. He had forgotten who he was dealing with.

"Take your clothes off." she ordered. She watched him as his eyes grew big in shock and indignation at the command and she smiled. "Take … them … off." she whispered, her eyes promising great pleasures to come if he obeyed.

Slowly she saw him reach for his tunic and begin to unfasten it. The items of clothing came off methodically, one by one as she leaned back against the bed to admire the body of her husband. Midway though, annoyed at his own breeches, Guy mumbled: "Aren't you going to help me?"

She shook her head and refused to help him. It took several more minutes for him to be completely naked and waiting for her to speak. When she said nothing, it was Guy who broke the silence. He felt mildly awkward standing there with her looking at him with something akin to lust. It had always been the other way around. "So, are you satisfied?"

She lifted her eyebrow and shrugged lightly, liking her lips. "The outer shell is, indeed, satisfactory." she said beginning to move towards him. "But appearances can be deceiving." She began encircling him, making him turn his head to see what she was doing. Her shoulder brushed against him from time to time but as he moved closer to her, she took one step behind. "What looks like something, might be something else entirely and what looks like the perfect specimen of one's sex might in fact be …" She stood on her toes and brought her mouth next to his ear to whisper: "useless."

Before he could protest she had reached around him and grabbed him between her fingers. All that came out was a long sigh as he felt his own body stiffen against her touch. Her hand was cold and that only added to the sensation and she began to move up and down, making him dizzy.

"I have to say you are failing at your maidenly act, Josie." he said panting.

"And I suppose you've had extensive experience with maids as to know, my lord." she retorted over his shoulder.

"I've had my fair share." He regretted speaking the words immediately as her fingers closed around him and squeezed hard, making him cry out. "Not one, my lady." he rectified.

"Good answer." she said and resumed her gentle ministrations. "Forget every women you've ever loved, Guy. Forget every woman you've ever wanted. Just remember me."

"Yes, my lady." he said softly, already drunk with lust, hoping to be released soon so he could teach her a thing or two about playing such tricks on her lawful husband.


End file.
